current readings

Lust, that state commonly known as 'being in love,' is a kind of madness. It is a distortion of reality so remarkable that it should, by rights, enable most of us to understand the other forms of lunacy with the sympathy of fellow-sufferers. And yet as we all know, it is a madness that, however ferocious, seldom, if ever, lasts. Nor, contrary to the popular teaching on the subject, does lust usually give way to a 'deeper and more meaningful love.' There are exceptions of course. Some spouses 'love' forever. But, as a rule, if the couple is truly well matched, it gives way to a warm and interdependent friendship enriched with physical attraction. Should they be ill-assorted it simply fades into boredom or, if they have the misfortune to be married in the interim, dull hatred. But, paradoxically, mad and suffering as one is in the heat of the flame, few of us are glad as we feel passion slip away. How many ofus, re-meeting objects of desire who once burned a scar through seasons and even years, whose voices on the telephone could start up flights of butterflies, whose slightest expression could set off a peal of tremulous sexual bells in our vitals, search our inner selves in vain for the least attraction to the face before us? How many of us, having cried bitter, rancid tears over a failed love, are actually disappointed when we discover, seeing the adored one again, that all trace of their power over us is gone? How often one has resisted the freedom-giving knowledge that they have actually begun to irritate us as that seems like the worst kind of disloyalty to our own dreams. No, while most people have been at their unhappiest when in love, it is nevertheless the state the human being yearns for above all.

From Snobs by Julian Fellowes.

current readings

"The greatest defeat, in anything, is to forget, and above all to forget what it is that has smashed you, and to let yourself be smashed without ever realizing how thoroughly devilish men can be."

From Journey To The End Of The Night by Louis-Ferdinand Céline.


And I had Indian food for dinner, so if anyone would like to kiss me while I taste like curry, now is the time. Heh.

Aliens, Tibbits, the bus, and a scolding.

So Adam and I watched the first two Alien movies last night and it was pretty rad. Then we ate sammiches and they were good. Then I fell asleep on his couch and woke up at 9am with Tibbits in my face. Good stuff. Took the bus home and was amused by the crazy lady on the 22. Also amusing were the random people on the bus who started yelling back at her.

Went to work. Now I go play, I think.

Oh yeah, I got the best chiding ever. We got some pulsing Xenia cuttings and I was trying to attach them to live rock rubble with rubber bands. I was sort of making a mess on the counter and Waldoe yells at me, "Propagate corals in the back room, dammit!" Shit, that's so fucking cool. I started laughing and sort of ducked my head apologetically saying, "But I don't want them to die..." Heh.

L.S./M.F.T.

I am such a drunk. Last night I went to see Kenny. So we had a few cocktails. Then we ate sandwiches. Then we went down to the bar and had a few more cocktails. I succeeded in passing out fully clothed with the lights on. And I also woke up in time to not get towed! Yeah!

It's dangerous to live so close to a bar where all of your friends work.

Then I went to work and played with fish. The 38 gallon that leaked everywhere has been replaced with a 60 gallon bullet-style tank. We are going to put a bunch of seahorses in it on Monday. And some Gorgonians. I don't really like the idea all that much. In my experience, Gorgonians need too much flow to put them in a seahorse tank. Although it is cute to see them hanging on to the branches with their tails. Awww.

And of course, Andrew took a bunch of live rock out of the 100 gallon to put into the new tank and left the water level 3 inches low so that the sump stopped working. And then he left. He always does that shit. And I hate starting up that sump because I always get a mouthful of saltwater when I manually restart the siphon. Yuck.

Also Ashley was there and I vacillate between tolerating her and wanting to punch her in the face. She thinks all men want to do her. And for some reason, she's started smoking Lucky Strike straights, so Waldoe says to her, "Loose straps mean floppy tits." I nearly died laughing when I saw the look of sheer confusion on her stupid face. Hahahaha.