* I've visited UTC over a dozen times, I'm sure, and never ventured into the cemetery across the street. So I finally decided to do so this weekend, and promptly got soaked to the bone by a sudden rainstorm. It's as if the heavens opened up to tell me "you shall not enter hallowed ground".
* On impulse, leaving work on Friday I checked out Père Goriot. While I haven't finished it yet, I may have a new favorite novelist. I was struck by Balzac's talent at cataloging mundane details in a compelling way and his Dickensian gift for character - an insight into the mundane and a gift for highlighting the grotesque within - with bit more viciousness than Dickens, which of course I immediately took to. If I decide to adopt this as a hobby, I'll have plenty to do: there are a whopping ninety five novels in La Comédie humaine. And with 95 of them that will significantly increase the odds of proving Lucy Liu wrong and serendipitously meeting my soulmate lurking in that section of the bookstore or library. You know, you'd think that spending forty hours a week in a library would also increase the odds of meeting a Balzac-reading, or at least functionally literate, woman, but you'd be wrong.
* For some reason I keep hearing Cutting Crew's "(I Just) Died in Your Arms". Not by choice, mind you. I used to think that song was so deep. I'd drive along at night with the window down, the song blaring on the radio, my hair blowing ludicrously in the wind, and think about how deep it was. But you know, I have no idea what the hell that song is about. "Loving by proxy"? What the hell does that even mean?