Twelve-mile ride: check. We drove down 65th to pick up the Burke because Otis’s knees are a bit dicky right now; nonetheless, she managed the six miles to LFP and back on the flats all right. We perused the bookstore and had burritos while we were up there; it’s always nice to have a goal.
Movie with friends: check. Dingo and Wheylona came by after dinner and we carpooled it up to the Crest to see Sicko. We had a great time: Moore has made a wonderful film. It was laugh-out-loud funny in parts, make-you-cry sad in others, and get-you-pissed almost all the time. Wheylona wonders if Neds is heading the wrong way…
Quasi-productive morning: check. After breakfast, Otis went off to meet her mama for coffee-an’, so I was left home to take care of business, which I did a little of, including reading the first part of Reading Comics by Douglas Wolk. It turned out to be a great overview of the form, pulling together different scholarly and popular trends of thought in a compelling way; I know I can mine it for some lessons in my course in Spring. The second half comprises reviews of individual works or authors; I’m less interested in that part, so I may return the book to the colleague from whom I borrowed it.
Quasi-productive afternoon: check. After lunch, Otis and I went off to Zoka’s near U Village to put in some wi-fi time. She got a lot done on poetry and art; I got a little done on a great big post to my comics blog. We rewarded ourselves with pad thai.
Productive evening: check. After dinner, Otis got all arty and stuff and I finished off my post.
Now we can relax, since the real work begins tomorrow!
Link farm!
Check this video out and see if you ever believe a photograph again.
Well, the week is about up and this prediction hasn't come through. Whew?
Is my finding this sort of like this?
Oh, and this one's for Soapy.
Somebody remind me that I am way too busy to go to this.
This may be old news now, but if Jon of Monmouth (at least) can't figure this out (don't look at the comments), I'll be surprised.
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2 comments:
Well, I knew the general direction, but I did not guess exactly.
Oh, Georgie Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling, you little bird.
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