Scientific Experiment

Glass 1: My head feels a little lighter. I'm still knitting with lots of precision (not much required out of straight stockinette sock, after all. I'm craving my second glass, and I've got 1/4 inch still in there. I was struck by a sudden fear that we missed House yesterday, what with all of our watching The Sopranos on DVD. We're stuck watching the seasons as they're available to us at the video store. But hey, any Sopranos is better than no Sopranos, eh? I liked last Sunday's episode. The Amazing Race is back on after commercial, must go watch. (9:37PM)

Glass 2: I'm 1/2 inch from the bottom (9:58) and I'm going out for a smoke. I've decided that I need to bring with me a book that's easy to read, one of my practically free chick-lit books from this christmas when I ordered a bunch and got them for almost nothing. You know, one of the filler books that they didn't really like, but they packaged them with some good ones to hopefully sell the whole thing at a higher price. Man, I'm debating keeping in my typos just for the record, but it's too much, and I usually hit backspace so quickly it's impossible to not, you know? Anyway, off for a smoke. Love you.

Glass 3: Quite frankly, I started the book. I read the first paragraph before checking the back or the author's bio on the back page. When I read the second paragraph, I knew the author was british. God, I love me some british chick-lit. There's nothing like it for me. Look at it this way, the Queen's English is the purest form of our language, and I love it. There's nothing so disappointing as opening a book and reading something that could have come from your own mouth (or fingertips). I don't know.

I don't mean to knock books written by americans. Hells bells, you know I've read my fair share. I love them, but there's a totally different feeling to the ones written by the british. There's an added attraction that you can't find in books written here. It's a whole nother language to master, a whole different tone to adapt to, a whole nother world.

I started this book not liking the fact that the author hadn't stated where she's from, but I'm getting an inexplicable high from the small phrases that made me certain of her history.

It isn't the dialogue, though I'm sure that would tip it off even sooner. No, it's the phrases like "grubby dressing gown", "It would be obvious in a moment that someone was unsuitable", and thinking of the nights that he and Smith spent mindlessly hopping through forty-seven cable channels without talking" that I love. Those sentances just aren't constructed by people who live in North America. Not even you, Canada. I've read your books. They're not as satisfying to me.

You know what I hate? I hate people who adopt that fake-o english stuff, expecting that people like me will fall down at their feet for being quazi-british. That's bullshit, and I'm calling them out. You tea people are included. Screw you and the faux british you rode in on.

Now I'm reading blogs. Please excuse my wandering. I feel like I'm leaving you all hanging, but really you'll keep reading like no time has past, won't you? The time is now later. (10:37) I'm still on glass #3, though that will end soon. I've got about 1 inch remaining.

1/4 inch. (10:40.) Please remind you to tell me (or me to tell you, whatever works) about the sweet high school boy who stalked me last year in Lawn and Garden and how I finally confronted the issue that lay between us - namely that I am not 18, am married, and am really very too old for it to be legal to fancy him and especially too married to entertain the thought. It's a very good story. I promise.

Glass 4: Just gone out for another smoke.

(10:54.) I don't know if you've realized it, but the reason I'm reading this fine british chick-lit is that it takes a lot less effort than the (sturdy? What's the word for the other book I'm reading?) novel that I'm reading. It's still good, and that should say something, right? Although, I'm getting a little drunk now. Can feel the effects, and so forth. Still reading that one blog I talked about before, without really talking about it. You know, the one I actually hate? Haha, how fun.

(11:08) Feeling nostalgic. David Letterman just got laughs for claiming that Wisconsin is america's dairyland. How idiotic. No reason for laughing, folks. It's the damned truth.

Glass 5: Thought for a minute I'd missed glass #4, but there it is, clear as day. Thank God for the experiment, or I'd be lost. Going to smoke now. (11:23.)

(11:35.) Talking to an old friend. I love my friends across the world, and look forward to hearing good things from them. At times in my life, if I didn't have friends I'd never met, I'd have had no friends at all. Sad, when looked at from a different perspective than mine, but it's true and it makes me happy nonetheless.

Glass 6?: Perhaps I missed a glass here or there. I don't think so, though. Bruce has been at Cam's since before I started drinking. Well, almost.

Going to call Cam. (12:26.)

Bruce answered (12:29.) Am going to finish up conversations with brother (LOVE YOU ROBBY) and maybe go to bed. Possibly. Maybe one more glass. I wish I had more to offer for my brother than just a place to stay. I wish he wanted to live with me just to live with me again. I miss him terribly. We'd love to have him here.