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That Octopus Book
Aug. 28th, 2024 09:18 amFinished Remarkably Bright Creatures, a/k/a “that octopus book.”
It’s about transitions in the mysteriously intertwined lives of a 70-year-old woman, a 30-year-old guy, and a Giant Pacific Octopus (in other words, Magical Realism), and such a lovely book—entertainingly written but nothing that requires a lot of intellectual heavy lifting. Its ending is sweet & moving: Marcellus dies; I cried.
If anyone is looking for something to read (or listen to via Books on Tape), this one gets Joe-Patrizia’s coveted five-star recommendation!!!!
###
What else?
The Igster decided not to go back down to the NYC this week because he is going to Montreal over the Labor Day weekend.
This shaves maybe an hour and a half off Montreal travel time at best, so it makes very little practical sense to me. I think maybe the Igster is pursuing some romantic interest up here, either a Bumble hookup or someone in his pickleball group.
The Decathecting Initiative is proceeding well, though I did steal a sniff of one of his sweatshirts yesterday. (Shame, SHAME 😀)
I am now copyediting the Remunerative Project—yet another source of Shame, SHAME—because it is so abysmally written, plus I found mistakes in two of my regression analyses, which I will have to rerun today.
Also, I have to find something else to read.
Fireweed in late summer:
It’s about transitions in the mysteriously intertwined lives of a 70-year-old woman, a 30-year-old guy, and a Giant Pacific Octopus (in other words, Magical Realism), and such a lovely book—entertainingly written but nothing that requires a lot of intellectual heavy lifting. Its ending is sweet & moving: Marcellus dies; I cried.
If anyone is looking for something to read (or listen to via Books on Tape), this one gets Joe-Patrizia’s coveted five-star recommendation!!!!
###
What else?
The Igster decided not to go back down to the NYC this week because he is going to Montreal over the Labor Day weekend.
This shaves maybe an hour and a half off Montreal travel time at best, so it makes very little practical sense to me. I think maybe the Igster is pursuing some romantic interest up here, either a Bumble hookup or someone in his pickleball group.
The Decathecting Initiative is proceeding well, though I did steal a sniff of one of his sweatshirts yesterday. (Shame, SHAME 😀)
I am now copyediting the Remunerative Project—yet another source of Shame, SHAME—because it is so abysmally written, plus I found mistakes in two of my regression analyses, which I will have to rerun today.
Also, I have to find something else to read.
Fireweed in late summer:
