sirena: (banksy; i'm nothing if not unrealistic)
Some tree fell on my car and smooshed it all to bits.

Some bastard tree smooshing my car.
From I Hate Trees

Happy Tree Falling On Nicki's Car Four Year Anniversary! 8D

Coincidentally, for this year's anniversary, I am driving a rental while June is having cosmetic surgery. I was going to celebrate by dropping a twig on the roof, but hey, not my car.

(Also, I finally saw The Darjeeling Limited and quite liked it.

Other things I recommend:
sirena: (Default)
It is a hobo name.

For my birthday, Mum got me The Areas of My Expertise by John Hodgman, whom you may know as the PC in the Apple commercials, or, if you're a TMBG nerd like me, as the Deranged Millionaire.

Anyway, it's hilarious. It's like an almanac, but it's all bizarre bullshit. But I thought this bit was funny for different reasons (sorry, I know there's a no-reproduction thing, but it's free advertisement, no? And I have nothing better to do anyway).

Here is your TL;DR warning. )

We can all see why that is particularly funny.

I am exhausted.

Also, some lovely bands I experienced this evening:
Judd & Maggie
Exit Clov

Also, I graduated!
sirena: (blue beetle; gladys)
So I'm close to halfway through Shoeless Joe--so far Ray has kidnapped Terence Mann I mean J.D. Salinger (although he is so James Earl Jones in my head) and now they are headed to Chisholm to go after Moonlight Graham. But the transition to this from The Curious Incident was strange. The latter is written from the perspective of an autistic kid, and the language is very simple and straightforward. But Shoeless Joe rarely lets a paragraph go by without at least one metaphor or simile thrown in there. It's not a bad book by any means, and the plot itself is awesome enough to keep me going--but it's bordering on purple.

The dialogue, though. I can deal with near-excessively descriptive narration. But this dialogue!

"You don't know how those words affected me," I go on. "It was the line 'They tore down the Polo Grounds in 1964' that got me. Those words flew off the printed page, hovered in the air, assumed the shape of a gray bird, and landed on my shoulder. I reached up and picked off the bird and held it in my hand, tiny and pulsing, pressed it hard against my chest, and it disappeared like mist. If I were to open my shirt, and you looked closely, you could still see its faint silver outline on my skin."

...What?? That is dialogue. Someone is saying that. AH! Mr. Kinsella! DO YOU HONESTLY KNOW PEOPLE WHO REALLY TALK LIKE THAT? The fuck does that even mean? If there's one thing that kills me, it's unnatural dialogue. And this dialogue has seven heads. It is a complete FREAK of nature.

Well, anyway. This thing tomorrow (the non-date) has got my stomach in knots and my leg all jumpy and it's completely irrational. Get over it, get over it, Nichole. You will rock it tomorrow, it's okay. No worries.
sirena: (blue beetle; gladys)
It's been boarded, I can't afford it anymore.

So I finished The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time and I rather enjoyed it. Next I'm starting on Shoeless Joe, which, as you may know, Field of Dreams was based off of, and that, as you may also know, is inexplicably my favorite movie ever (why do I not own this?) (hint hint). And I do not care that J.D. Salinger is an Irish-Jewish American, I am reading him as James Earl Jones.

I bought these books yesterday during Nicki and Allie's Day of Fun! We went Aquariuming, and then to CPK, and then we bought several pounds of fudge and got sleepy in Barnes and Noble.

I feel kind of nauseous now and I'm not altogether sure why. I felt sick last night, too, so I hope this trend stops by Thursday (which I will completely rock, with my awesome boots).

And I hope that goes well. Whatever that might mean.

And I had a dream last night about Tim--well, I shouldn't say it was about him, but he was in it (although so was Lauren and some girl I swear I've had a class with once but her name escapes me), and his hair was a bit longer and then there was soap in my hair, like I hadn't washed any of the shampoo out. I really haven't thought about Tim in a while and then I remembered this morning about all the times we hung out and walked to and from class together and that I actually am his friend, and maybe I should have made him that get-well basket of stuff after all.

Also, it turns out I have been pronouncing "Helena" wrong for YEARS. The accent is on the first syllable??


sirena: (Default)

June 2011

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