(no subject)

[muckefuck]

In his most recent entry, lhn frets that he doesn't do enough to make for an interesting journal. This seems silly to me, as he thinks a lot of interesting things and, in general, I find reading intriguing ideas more sitmulating than reading about enjoyable events. That's why I patterned my journal after mollpeartree, who writes more like a columnist than a diarist. (Or, at least, a diarist in the Bridget Jones mode; for all I know, turn-of-the-century literary diaries were routinely anthologies of short essays on life, love, and the meaning of it all, but somehow I doubt it.)

Of course, then one falls into the trap I tried to avoid with the Koreans: If you put off contributing until you're at the top of your form, your entries dry up and your friends (and your Friends) wonder what's up with you. So there's obviously a balance between essaying, venting, and just being chatty to be struck, but I don't know that going out and Really Living Life is a necessary prerequiste. Face it: If you really had a fascinating, thrilling existence, when would you find time to write about it?

Since the only "interesting" thing I seem to do is eat out, I've been meaning for some weeks now to write up a list of my most recent food adventures. Stay tuned. Most recently, we tried to eat at the North Pond Café last night and were turned away for lack of reservations despite the fact that the dining area was more than two-thirds empty. What's with that? Oh well, we accomplished our primary goal, which was to distribute the stale bread that we left behind on our last trip to the park, two full weeks prior.

Some of it went to a congregation of ducks (mostly mallards, with four or five wood duck pairs) across from the Nature Museum, the rest fell to a smaller number of their kin (no woodies, but a few odd-looking specimens of even smaller size)--only one big enough to eat--and a rapacious school of small bluish fish lurking in front of the café. These little guys reminded me of piranha. Often, smaller fish will take a bite at floating bread and, if it's too big to swallow, leave it be. Not they: Even sizable pieces were generally shredded before a waterfowl could get near them. We had hoped to lure some of the large koi we spied in the murk, but they never seemed to come within so much as a foot of the surface. The geese, off in a cove on the far side of the pond, were even more aloof and were not drawn by either feeding frenzy. Geese are just so full of themselves. Mark my words: Their day of reckoning is close at hand.

Comments

[lifeandstuff.livejournal.com]

I agree. LHN rocks and was just being silly about fretting about doing things to liven things up. The posts are great and don't need livened up. Obviously, you three all do great essays, whereas I mostly whine about my work day. So, I like all of yours better, but I'm hoping 10% of mine (or less) are actually vaguely entertaining in some way that makes it wortwhile to read over the forced activity of working.

In other news, my work is really sucking... ;)