Current interests, part 2

Rin: Daughters of Mnemosyne. This anime looks like a total mind screw, on so many separate levels. From what I've gathered about it, it is most certainly not for the faint of heart, and anyone who's interested in watching it should go in fully aware that it is for the mature crowd in every sense of the word. I still plan on seeing it, though. I've yet to meet any book/film/tv series/anime that could freak me out enough to make me totally flip my wig. I have, on the other hand, encountered just the *descriptions* of a few internet memes that did just that. Draw your own conclusions as to which ones they were.

Cooking and Indian food. I've recently gone off on a huge cooking jag, and have been absorbing recipes right left and center. I don't think we'll be treated to my turning into Julie from Julie and Julia but I think you can all certainly expect to hear about my cooking endeavors, experiments, and abject failures. I am currently focusing my attentions on Indian cuisine, mostly due to the fact that volume four of Black Butler featured copious references to curry and piqued my interest. I also have been drinking more chai tea, specifically a new flavor from Teavana known as Maharaja Chai Oolong. Oh my word, it's spectacular!

The Secret History. This has always been one of my favorite books, but I've recently been re-reading it (or at least re-reading specific passages). The plot, which features a group of sophisticated classics students who get sucked into their own modern version of a Greek tragedy, is gripping in the extreme. The book is notable for its amazing characterization and superb (albeit deliciously dysfunctional) group dynamics, and I've always been fond of two of the lead characters: Henry Winter, a Mycroft Holmes-esque polymath with ice in his veins and a nasty attitude, and Francis Abernathy, an aristocratic drama king whose shoes I often seem to find myself in when I'm at Miskatonic. (Feelings on that subject: THANK GOD I'M HOME.)

In which I am deported back to Miskatonic

Well, after yet another long absence, I'm back. Back to writing (hopefully), back to studying (reluctantly), and back to school (unwillingly). After four weeks of rest and recuperation with my family, being dropped back at Miskatonic is like being dragged out of the Ritz Carlton and thrown in a dumpster more generally used by a hospital, a lab for the study of nuclear isotopes, and a Chinese restaurant. The temperature is miserable out here, as is to be expected, and I am in so many ways not enjoying my sans-boxsprings bed, which makes my lower spine want to pack its bags and leave me for a more caring human being. Feelings on the subject: Annoyed
The social scene is also far from enthralling at this juncture. There was a point for me where partying seemed like the be-all and end-all of social life at Miskatonic, but after attending a Ke$ha themed party at a friend's house yesterday I was left thoroughly disenchanted with the whole process. The only way to enjoy oneself was to get falling-down drunk, something that has ceased to appeal to me in the slightest. After watching the mess of people in the living room attempt to dance (those who were still sober or only slightly buzzed wobbling back and forth uncertainly, while the thoroughly smashed specimens often just gave up their hold on being vertical and let gravity do the work), I opted to head outside to converse with the would-be intellectuals standing on the stoop smoking their pipes and cigarettes and arguing about Nietzsche. This, however, proved detrimental on two fronts: For one, it became abundantly clear that all anyone wanted to do was impress each other rather than discuss anything (and my being one of the few if not the only female there at any given time, this meant that all the straight men just HAD to do their damnedest to impress me above all else. Victoria was decidely less than awed by their supposed epiphanies and infallible arguments.) For two, the smoke got in my eyes and mouth and just generally made me feel gross. So it was back inside, where I got cornered by an old aquaintance who attempted to give me profound life advice that might have been relevant to him but when applied to me was like trying to convince a shark to become a vegetarian for the good of its soul. At this point I vacated the party as fast as I could and walked home. Or attempted to walk. While I had been trying to enjoy myself while wearing too much eye makeup, the heavens had opened and unleashed freezing rain, which coated everything and led me to slip and slide most of the way home. Feelings on the subject: Disgusted

So now I'm sitting in my dorm room, suffering withdrawal from functional civilization. I'm also a tad depressed on account of the fact that the awesome book I was reading - Snow Crash - finally came to an end, and though I absolutely adored it start to finish I now cannot find anything else that I want to read. I JUST WANT MORE SNOW CRASH, DAMMIT. Feelings on the subject: Morose

And I have to do my laundry. Feelings on the subject: !@#QR(*U*(#T&*(QA#RPU ARGH

Books, bugs, and mysteries

Life moves apace, dear readers, and as per usual it's never simple. Exciting, yes, fun, sometimes, interesting, always, but never, ever simple. For starters, I'm literally drowning in books, both for pleasure and work. I've recieved a great many volumes from various publishers for my reviewing pleasure, which is fine, except for the small problem of these being rather large books. Combined with the huge amount of reading I do for my classes every single night the task of getting through any of them is more than a little daunting. I swear I will get to it, though. I just will have to take a bit longer than average, as after a certain point when I'm reading my brain goes into shutdown mode and refuses further input. *Deep, melodramatic sigh*


The bug life has also been making a nuisance of itself. The hallway of the Undercity - a collective pet name for the basement level in which my friends and I make our abode - is consistently infested with all manner of creepy crawlers. Assasin bugs, daddy-long-legs, centipedes (naturally), mosquitoes, and a host of unnamed monstrosities - all of which apparently have been using anabolic steroids because they are HUGE - regularly make us scream, run, and put our books to practical use as ideal bug killers. I chalk it up to the weather, as the dropping, autumnal temperatures tend to drive insects in doors, thus causing all manner of issues.

Also, the clanking pipes have finally come to a halt. That has not, however, brought an end to the late night noise. This time the sounds come in the form of a person, one who routinely returns to/leaves the building early in the morning, and opts to use the back door which is set to trigger an alarm if it's opened after 12 AM or before 6 AM. Said alarm has the power of a jackhammer and goes off till the door has been closed, usually by which point I'm disentangling my fingers from the ceiling plaster and trying to not have a heart attack. Who this person is remains a mystery, though I am busily compiling and correlating the incidence of the door's opening and hope to be able to bring this to a halt in the near future. Because either they cut it out or I feed them to my shoggoth. Their choice.