Three New Movies for the Netflix Queue

Self is so excited!  She is really making progress on her HUMONGOUS Pile of Stuff!  Now she can actually see the bottom of this huge box where she stuffed everything she’s received in the mail since the start of the year!  Oh happy happy joy joy!

The latest thing self yanked out of the box was a copy of The New Yorker, the Mar. 19, 2012 issue.  Self doesn’t know how in the heck this issue got lost for so long, but never mind.  The capsule reviews in the front of the magazine all refer to movies long gone. Movies like “Friends with Kids” (Of all things, The New Yorker criticizes it for being “smug,” for not showing a “hint that other worlds and values may be beyond the city limits” BWAH HA HAAA!) and “Safe House” (Ryan Reynolds doing Read the rest of this entry »

Sunny in Redwood City, Foggy in San Bruno

Today self and The Man watched a little of the Olympics:  the rowing, the sculling, and the U.S. women’s soccer game in Glasgow. The women, the world knows by now, scored three goals to beat Colombia.

Picture Window, Self’s Living Room

Earlier today, self was in San Bruno.  When she left home, 9:30 a.m., Redwood City was already starting to feel hot.  Driving north on 280, self saw fog spilling over the mountains.  Thick fog.  The light was beautiful.

Then she passed the signs for San Francisco Airport.  Here, she had to turn on the car heater.

When she arrived in San Bruno, it was windy and cold.  As usual, self was very inappropriately dressed, in white cut-offs and thin summer blouse and sandals.

She stopped by Goldilocks on the way home and had a bowl of ginataan.  She started reading the book she brought with her, Scotland’s Bookshelf.  Reading an excerpt from Ali Smith’s 2011 novel Girl Meets Boy made self want to take a picture of her surroundings, she’s not sure why.  She decided, however, to honor the impulse. After all, who knows if she’ll ever have another urge to take a picture from Goldilocks?  And here is that picture.  Foggy, cold San Bruno — just like Edinburgh in June.

Westborough Boulevard, the view from Goldilocks

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

Scotland’s Bookshelf, Part III

Well, it’s been almost a month since self has been back in California.

She misses the Quidditch team (naturally).

She.  Has.  Got.  To.  Make.  It.  Back.  To.  Edinburgh.  Someday.

When most susceptible to sighing nostalgia, self turns to the little booklet she picked up from Bonnyrigg Library:  Scotland’s Bookshelf:  A Celebration of 100 Years of Scottish Writing.

The booklet is made up of excerpts from the work of Scottish writers, ranging over the past 100 years.  Each decade is represented by two writers. The representative two for the decade 2000 to 2011 are  Janice Galloway and Ali Smith.  Self has read Galloway but not Smith.

Here’s an excerpt from Smith’s novel, Girl Meets Boy:

Let me tell you about when I was a girl, my grandfather says.

It is Saturday evening; we always stay at their house on Saturdays.  The couch and the chairs are shoved back against the walls.  The teak coffee table from the middle of the room is up under the window.  The floor has been cleared for the backward and forward somersaults, the juggling with oranges and eggs, the how-to-do-a-cartwheel, how-to-stand-on-your-head, how-to-walk-on-your-hands lessons.  Our grandfather holds us upside-down by the legs until we get our balance.  Our grandfather worked in a circus before he met and married our grandmother.  He once did headstands on top of a whole troupe of headstanders.  He once walked a tightrope across the Thames.  The Thames is a river in London, which is five hundred and twenty-seven miles from here, according to the mileage chart in the RAC book in among our father’s books at home.  Oh, across the Thames, was it?  our grandmother says.  Not across the falls at Niagara?  Ah, Niagara, our grandfather says.

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