...you and i are still alone...

Well, I walk to your house in the afternoon
By the butcher shop with the sawdust strewn
"Don't give away the goods too soon"
Is what she might have told me

And I tried so hard to resist
When you held me in your handsome fist
And reminded me of the night we kissed
And of why I should be leaving

If I thought about it coherently, really coherently, this is better. It is right, and for the best. Because who wants a life that can be chronicled by Suzanne Vega? Blah blah blitty blah.

And now for something completely different... I have read 31 of the 50 most questioned books in the United States over the past year. I wonder what that says about me? Some titles on there whose presence really I just don't understand:

James and the Giant Peach, by Roald Dahl
I Have to Go by Robert Munsch

There are so many other books there which I think are wonderful, but I do understand why the nutcases of the bible-belt might object to them. Still, they are rather wonderful books (I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, The Grapes of Wrath, The Handmaid's Tale, etc.).

My reading recommendation for the new year:

Immortality, by Milan Kundera
Chronicle of a Death Foretold, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Middlesex, by Jeffrey Eugenides
The Captain's Verses, by Pablo Neruda
Veronika Decides to Die, by Paolo Coelho
The Fountainhead, by Ayn Rand

Some music to try, if you're up for a change:

The Concretes
Ute Lemper (especially tracks featuring The Divine Comedy)
Letters to Cleo, circa 1997
Faudel
At The Drive-In (especially tracks on the CD Nick made me over the summer)

Et voila, comme si j’ai passé les vacances. Bonne année et meilleurs voeux, particulièrement pour tout ceux que je n’ai que peu revu cette année; j’aimerais bien avoir des nouvelles de vous.

Baisers,
le moi.