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On Reading & Custard Again
Dec. 14th, 2010 10:08 pmDecember 14 1889
I regret that I spent most of this day in my bed, but I really had no work that needed doing and I felt more like sleeping and reading when I finally did wake. Last evening I told I friend I was returning here, when I actually met up with a few... acquaintances from the university. I have had a lot of thoughts in my head lately, and I really do not know where to begin with sorting them out. I could start by laying them out here, but some I do not think are fit to be written down, even if there were few secrets in our marriage. I have dealt with too many stolen diaries and the like. I also really do not know how to begin with putting all of it into words.
But last evening I spend time with several Stoats--playing that custard game they are so fond of dragging me into. Admittedly I am not that hard to convince, but I try to make a show of declining. One would think by now that they would have caught-on to my simple strategies, but I still won again last night. Then again they may let me win in order to guarantee that I will be buying a round of drinks. I am not going to investigate this too much as it is beneficial to all involved! I have no idea what hour it was when I made it back here, but did manage to fumble my clothes into soak before I passed-out. In the least I did make it back to my own bed for a change. Custard is d---able to get out of most things.
I started reading of the few books I ordered awhile ago from 'The Surface'. I feel in an odd way that I an betraying my home by referring to everything under such a collective but detached term. What other word that can describe the rest of the word above, and yet remain recognisable? I still refuse to call this 'Fallen' London. It shall hopefully continue to remain simply 'London' every time I utter it. By now you must be tired of my protests of this topic, so I shall drop that train right now. I started reading "The Wrong Box", which I must admit I did not get very far into, but that I certainly have been enjoying so far. I shall blame my hangover than blame another cause for not being able to finish more than the first chapter. I have ordered a few for another person, but I honestly am confused as to what date I should deliver them? I am not of the type than cannot afford to give bought Christmas gifts, but I do not know who it would be proper to offer them to. There are few I can consider 'friends', but I hope as the next week unfolds I will have a better grasp as to who it would not be overly strange to receive from me.
I will close this entry out as I prepare to visit that ex-Forger. I am greatly worried over what state I will find him in.
I regret that I spent most of this day in my bed, but I really had no work that needed doing and I felt more like sleeping and reading when I finally did wake. Last evening I told I friend I was returning here, when I actually met up with a few... acquaintances from the university. I have had a lot of thoughts in my head lately, and I really do not know where to begin with sorting them out. I could start by laying them out here, but some I do not think are fit to be written down, even if there were few secrets in our marriage. I have dealt with too many stolen diaries and the like. I also really do not know how to begin with putting all of it into words.
But last evening I spend time with several Stoats--playing that custard game they are so fond of dragging me into. Admittedly I am not that hard to convince, but I try to make a show of declining. One would think by now that they would have caught-on to my simple strategies, but I still won again last night. Then again they may let me win in order to guarantee that I will be buying a round of drinks. I am not going to investigate this too much as it is beneficial to all involved! I have no idea what hour it was when I made it back here, but did manage to fumble my clothes into soak before I passed-out. In the least I did make it back to my own bed for a change. Custard is d---able to get out of most things.
I started reading of the few books I ordered awhile ago from 'The Surface'. I feel in an odd way that I an betraying my home by referring to everything under such a collective but detached term. What other word that can describe the rest of the word above, and yet remain recognisable? I still refuse to call this 'Fallen' London. It shall hopefully continue to remain simply 'London' every time I utter it. By now you must be tired of my protests of this topic, so I shall drop that train right now. I started reading "The Wrong Box", which I must admit I did not get very far into, but that I certainly have been enjoying so far. I shall blame my hangover than blame another cause for not being able to finish more than the first chapter. I have ordered a few for another person, but I honestly am confused as to what date I should deliver them? I am not of the type than cannot afford to give bought Christmas gifts, but I do not know who it would be proper to offer them to. There are few I can consider 'friends', but I hope as the next week unfolds I will have a better grasp as to who it would not be overly strange to receive from me.
I will close this entry out as I prepare to visit that ex-Forger. I am greatly worried over what state I will find him in.
