Inspiration has flown the coop, so it’s just me and this glass(es) of wine and a husband snoozing on the couch even though we were supposed to watch Slings and Arrows while working on the taxes. Speaking of snoozing, I just got up to check the baby for the bazillionth time this evening and stumbled over the dog, who is lying smack in the middle of the hallway, on his back, paws in the air. Dude. You have a bed.
Why am I not sleepy at night? Never never, unless we’re watching tv in a dark room, an activity I liken to taking an Ambien wrapped up in Vicodin and washed down with Nyquil. With a Benadryl chaser. It’s only 10:00, but just thinking about the length of my next two days has me wishing I’d laid down with Patrick at 8:15 or whatever time he sat down "just for a second." Instead I’m wasting time obsessing over Facebook’s Terms of Use and reading the weblogs of some really funny total strangers.
When the going gets tough, and it’s tough right now – the Gillian gets insomnia. Speaking of Gillian, would any of you look at this name and think it is a man’s name? I know it begins with a "G," which perhaps could be thought of as a manly letter. Gilbert starts with a G. George. Gary. So does Grace, but we’ll leave that aside for now, and assign to the letter "G" a sort of masculinity. You see a name that starts with G, your expectation is that it is going to end in a burly, manly way. However, the entire rest of the name, i.e. "illian," kind of lends itself to a fluttery, female sort of feeling. Right?
Anyway. I got two more letters yesterday a work for Mr. Gillian E. I scratch my (female) head.
I am poring through one of the worst books I’ve ever read. New Moon beats Twilight for sheer bad writing – I even spotted the word "amuck," as in "she ran amuck." Hello editors? Did nobody run spell check? I frequently beat my head against the wall for the sad, sad lack of anything remotely resembling character development, plot, even grammar. And yet. I cannot put this thing down. I hate every second I spend looking at it, yet I can’t just give it back unread to the friend who loaned it to me. It is a crazy black magic that Stephenie Meyer has cast upon me. I am powerless to resist her 5 adjectives ("marble" is a favorite, as in "his marble chest," "his marble flanks," "the cool of his marble forehead,") her 2.5 plot points (I miss my vampire boyfriend, The vampires are after me, I’m sad,) her creative spelling. It’s almost as if she is staring at me with the cool hypnotic gaze out of the cool marble forehead of one of her cool marble characters, and demanding that I offer up my body/brain/eyes to her. I have 20 pages left. This evil friend has sworn that she will be loaning me the remaining books, but I don’t know if I can do it. And yet . . . I can’t . . . resist . . .
Well, I’m going to go be an insomniac who is at least trying to fall asleep. Wish me luck.
I wish you luck we have many things in common,lol
Re: your comments on the writing in the Twilight books…THANK YOU! AMEN! RIGHT ON!I read the first two over the summer, and amused myself by reading out ridiculously awful sentences to the Man while at the same time chiding myself for not even attempting to write my own nonsense if something this simple was on everyone\’s must-read list. I stopped after the second book, went on wikipedia and read the synopsis of the last 2 books. End of story. Hey, more power to the author, she reeled us all in.
1) I know! What is with sleepless night?!?!?2) I borrowed the worst book ever written from Kathryn. Eat Drink and be Gorgeous. "I am going to tell you how do this! But first I am going to tell you how to do this. Don\’t be a black and white cookie. Be a gray cookie. Don\’t restrict, eat! So strap on your martini glasses while I continue to tell you what I am going to tell you and then tell you nothing."