I believe my face has now reached what should be the peak of its post-operation swelling. I now know what my face would look like were I to gain 50 pounds. Let us hope, truly and sincerely, that I never, ever gain 50 pounds. That wouldn’t be cool.
Almost done with Kerouac’s On the Road now. Amazing that a book I’m so into could take me so long to get through. The last few weeks haven’t been reading weeks, though, and so I haven’t been in the state of mind necessary to attack 300 pages of text at a time, like I am sometimes able to do with great voracity and appetite. It’s coming back, though. 25 pages to go in this book, and once I finish with that, I intend to finish another paperback or two I’ve been gnawing on for some time. And then it’s on to Fight Club, which was chosen as the next book to read in this haphazard book club sort of thing I seem to have organized on an anime forum. Gotta finish it by January 1.
It was a good, if quiet Christmas, and by no means close to being over yet. It’s not even 5:30 on the day of, and what a day it has been already. Not in any big, exciting sort of way, but rather it has been the kind of day that is blissfully nondescript, free of conflict and contingency.
I now have in my posession a new compass, a Leatherman tool, and an antique drawknife that, following the completion of this entry, I plan on taking out to the barn and putting a nice new edge on it. There’s something beautiful about getting an old tool from an antique store – some nameless piece of iron wrought a century or more ago, something that might otherwise languish in obscurity and be forgotten – and putting a new edge on it, cleaning off the corrosion, etc. To give it new life and let it create again is distinctly pleasant.
More to say later tonight I’m sure, but for now it’s on to other things.
