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Feb. 4th, 2009 11:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blacklillyI have a very clear memory of having a pot of Vick's Vapour Rub with me in Japan. However, searching in the only places it could possibly be have turned up a goose egg. I can even see the bloody pot sitting on my sink shelf in my old apartment. Perhaps it was one of the sacrifices to the gods of house-moving. Anyway, it turns out that Vicks is sold in pharmacies here, so we all know where I'm heading tomorrow, and it won't just be to the clinic to complain about my lack of voice. By 10pm tonight I was barely able to open my mouth for the sad little sound that came out of it. And all this when I finally have enough money to get a social life back on the go. Well, I will be demanding strong drugs tomorrow in order to get me out of the house on Sunday!!
For no particular reason, here's a list of books I've read since December, the ones I remember anyway:
Evelyn Waugh - Brideshead Revisited
E M Forster - Howard's End
Jonathan Carroll - Sleeping in Flame
David Mitchell - Cloud Atlas
Haruki Murakami - Dance, Dance, Dance
Susan Hill - Strange Meeting
Mark Gatiss - The Devil in Amber
David Crystal - By Hook or By Crook
I've decided that EM Forster is possibly one of the best writers ever. Not my favourite, but really good. I always remember Mrs Moore's compassion towards the wasp in "A Passage to India". Every time I see a wasp I think of her, which is why, despite their inherent lack of purpose, I cannot hate them. That and the comment from Gloucester in "King Lear" about a broken crown, of which I am always reminded when I first crack into a boiled egg. Associations, associations. David Crystal's books is a fascinating read, and will come in useful on Saturday, should I have functioning vocal chords. Thanks v. much to Lou, who always select a good Xmas present.
Oh, and I had the perfect "from the hip" Holga shot this morning at the station. Four people all neatly seated on the platform opposite, but just when I summoned the courage to take my camera from my bag, the bloody train pulled in and they all dispersed. Curses. Maybe tomorrow. Right. Book and bedtime.
For no particular reason, here's a list of books I've read since December, the ones I remember anyway:
Evelyn Waugh - Brideshead Revisited
E M Forster - Howard's End
Jonathan Carroll - Sleeping in Flame
David Mitchell - Cloud Atlas
Haruki Murakami - Dance, Dance, Dance
Susan Hill - Strange Meeting
Mark Gatiss - The Devil in Amber
David Crystal - By Hook or By Crook
I've decided that EM Forster is possibly one of the best writers ever. Not my favourite, but really good. I always remember Mrs Moore's compassion towards the wasp in "A Passage to India". Every time I see a wasp I think of her, which is why, despite their inherent lack of purpose, I cannot hate them. That and the comment from Gloucester in "King Lear" about a broken crown, of which I am always reminded when I first crack into a boiled egg. Associations, associations. David Crystal's books is a fascinating read, and will come in useful on Saturday, should I have functioning vocal chords. Thanks v. much to Lou, who always select a good Xmas present.
Oh, and I had the perfect "from the hip" Holga shot this morning at the station. Four people all neatly seated on the platform opposite, but just when I summoned the courage to take my camera from my bag, the bloody train pulled in and they all dispersed. Curses. Maybe tomorrow. Right. Book and bedtime.
