Here is where I am at:

I am done with Against the Day. For now. I'll be back. Have been done for a couple weeks, actually. Sorry.

I am reading book two of the Sookie Stackhouse series. Which I find surprisingly unembarrassing, both to read and to admit to reading. I am explicitly remembering what plot is, perhaps for the first time in a decade or so. Being the inspiration for True Blood, they really do raise lots of interesting questions, about story telling and authority and superiority and adaptation. But mostly, there's plot. I like plot. There was a lot of plot in Pynchon, too, of course. But.

I am doing design-related stuff. I did a project on texture. Texture is interesting. Here is a poor photo of my project:



I am not writing. (Much.) (At all.) (These days.) I am not sure how I feel about that, other than sad and agonized and anxious and apathetic.

I am considering doing something absolutely outrageous in November. This will not involve David Bowie. (Unless.)

I am enjoying the shuffle function on my audio-music playing device. Because I am incapable of decisiveness. (More or less.)

I am enjoying grape juice, purchased in Geneva, Ohio.

I am not watching tonight's debate. My mind is already made up. I am either a good American, or a bad American, for this.

I am still unprepared to talk about David Foster Wallace.

I am learning a thing or two about color mixing. Here is a poor photograph of an attempt at transparent mixing, in which the effect might be quite lost:



I am looking forward to The Conduit. This is neither a book nor a movie. This is a video game.

I am probably never going to buy a Kindle.

I am not sure where this is going.