no time for romance
We woke to rain. I, old faithful, keyed notes: A History of the Jewish People in the Time of Jesus Christ, From Eden to Exile, and Alexander the Great.
Kimmie, Robin, and I went out for breakfast to the Corner Cafe. The sun had come out, but cool air blew in through the high awning-style windows that the proprietors had opened. Next: shopping. Park Royal, then back along Marine to a sport store so Robin could get running shoes for her new job, and on to Mark's Work Wearhouse to shop for scrubs--the uniform for MOAs at the Continuum Medical Centre. I bought 3 T-shirts for myself, on sale for $10 each. Next: Capilano Mall, to get a couple of odd and ends at Wal-Mart, liquor of course, and I bought a round of pops for us--Jones pink grapefruit for the women, and a cream soda for me.
At Wal-Mart, while Kimmie and Robin attended to the checkout, I perused the romance section of the rack of paperbacks nearby. I felt a little self-conscious, and also irritated with myself for feeling that way--what a conventional emotion for a man to have around romance novels. There were a number of different imprints, I guess corresponding to the levels of graphicness of the mating described within. I pulled down one volume, I forget the title, something to do with "black sheep", and read the first few paragraphs. I was surprised to find that the writing was not bad, but there is something about romance writing, at least that I've seen, that seems to be a genre requirement: a strangely overbright, perky tone, as though the narrator were on Ritalin or amphetamines, or perhaps in the manic phase of bipolar disorder. The tone is excited, breathless. Maybe I should have bought a copy so I could extract it and analyze it here. Would that be fun? I flipped through the book to see if I could spot some hot bits, but Kimmie wanted my debit card, since hers wouldn't work, and cut short my perusal.
Next: the Salvation Army to drop off a couple of unwanted things, then home. Robin went on to an appointment to have her nails done. Kimmie and I strolled to inspect the work on the Green Necklace, enjoying the sun and breeze and the deep-blue sky behind the white clouds.
Now it's 4:01. Kimmie's widowed sister-in-law Ev is coming down to join us for Shake 'n' Bake chicken breasts.
I seem to be in some kind of buffalo-wallow with my project. I'm scared of it. Now: teatime. Project reading? That's starting to feel oppressive, and yet I feel guilty almost if I read anything not research-related. It's part of my job description to know everything about life in 48 BC.
Kimmie, Robin, and I went out for breakfast to the Corner Cafe. The sun had come out, but cool air blew in through the high awning-style windows that the proprietors had opened. Next: shopping. Park Royal, then back along Marine to a sport store so Robin could get running shoes for her new job, and on to Mark's Work Wearhouse to shop for scrubs--the uniform for MOAs at the Continuum Medical Centre. I bought 3 T-shirts for myself, on sale for $10 each. Next: Capilano Mall, to get a couple of odd and ends at Wal-Mart, liquor of course, and I bought a round of pops for us--Jones pink grapefruit for the women, and a cream soda for me.
At Wal-Mart, while Kimmie and Robin attended to the checkout, I perused the romance section of the rack of paperbacks nearby. I felt a little self-conscious, and also irritated with myself for feeling that way--what a conventional emotion for a man to have around romance novels. There were a number of different imprints, I guess corresponding to the levels of graphicness of the mating described within. I pulled down one volume, I forget the title, something to do with "black sheep", and read the first few paragraphs. I was surprised to find that the writing was not bad, but there is something about romance writing, at least that I've seen, that seems to be a genre requirement: a strangely overbright, perky tone, as though the narrator were on Ritalin or amphetamines, or perhaps in the manic phase of bipolar disorder. The tone is excited, breathless. Maybe I should have bought a copy so I could extract it and analyze it here. Would that be fun? I flipped through the book to see if I could spot some hot bits, but Kimmie wanted my debit card, since hers wouldn't work, and cut short my perusal.
Next: the Salvation Army to drop off a couple of unwanted things, then home. Robin went on to an appointment to have her nails done. Kimmie and I strolled to inspect the work on the Green Necklace, enjoying the sun and breeze and the deep-blue sky behind the white clouds.
Now it's 4:01. Kimmie's widowed sister-in-law Ev is coming down to join us for Shake 'n' Bake chicken breasts.
I seem to be in some kind of buffalo-wallow with my project. I'm scared of it. Now: teatime. Project reading? That's starting to feel oppressive, and yet I feel guilty almost if I read anything not research-related. It's part of my job description to know everything about life in 48 BC.
posted by paulv at
3:46 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home