I'm just a cock-eyed pessimist

Well, The Prisoner and the Fugutive isn't quite as good as the last book (so far) - I'm at page 33 and I'm finding the narrator's endless obsession over Albertine rather unattractive. Meanwhile, in Brideshead Revisited, there's hope of the story becoming interesting as one of the main characters has become a filthy drunk. I'm interesting.

I have also left my phone at home, meaning I won't get the calls that I wouldn't have normally got, so, if you weren't planning on calling me, I won't be getting it.

And why is it that I'm always on the train that gets used to "regulate the service?" Can't I be on the one that gets there ahead of time?

I just watched this little audio slideshow feature on polkaing in the American Midwest, and it's got me all sapped up. Watch it! (It's a much better slice of American life than most of what I see in the media, but no doubt my own partially Midwestern background influences me in this.) It does look just a little bit Blue Velvet, though ...

Of course, what I really want is to go to a group sing. Do they even do that here? [Unknown LJ tag] described something like that they used to do maybe 10 years ago in south London somewhere at a bar that's now a corporate owned pubs. Ideas? Bueller?

So to entice me to actually work on cleaning the house, shadowdaddy took me to Yoisho on Goodge street today. Yum, yasai itame, seaweed in rice, quail eggs on a stick, sake, kimchee and pork belly on rice, sake, grilled duck, sake, sake sake sake. Yuuuuuum.

I did actually put away clothes but it was a bit of an expensive dinner and I've felt deliciously slack tonight. My Mikado (Carl Rosa at the Gielgud, not the ENO version) review is up on my other blog ... enjoy.