14 September 2007

Fifth and Denny

Waiting for the crossing light, Wednesday morning, I heard: "Theology books are a lot easier than psychology books for me. Theology books are like, 'God, God, God, God, God.' Psychology books are like, 'Aaaaaaaaa!'"

And then the two young men in backpacks jaywalked past and were on their way.

09 September 2007

03 September 2007

Bloodwood. Gillian Bradshaw.

Usually, in a thrillery sort of a book, you can be pretty sure the protagonist will end up alive. In this one, she's diagnosed with a fast-growing inoperable cancer right in the first couple of pages, so you can be pretty sure she'll end up dead. Other than that, little to remark on. I was glad to learn that for her next book Bradshaw's returned to period fiction.

02 September 2007

Teller Again

The little bank teller is getting good at depositing checks now! And his small talk is improving! He said to me, this time, "So what are you doing this weekend?" in quite the manner of a normal bank teller. A small warmth grew within me, to witness this blossoming into full grown tellerhood.

"Well, I was supposed to go hiking," I told him, "But it looks like I'm going to get dragged to Bumbershoot instead."

"Hiking sounds like more fun," he agreed.

So far so good.

"Bumbershoot's getting expensive," he remarked. "It's $35 this year. Last year it was $25, or $20."

I assented vaguely.

"But that's really not my kind of thing," he confided, standing straighter. "I've never been to a concert in my life!" His eyes glowed with a curious pride.

His skin kind of glowed, too, in the manner of someone whose life hasn't been long enough for him to have got around to going to a concert. Or learning to judge the relative volume of one whole or 6 2-cm chunks of hot dog, for that matter.

"I'm going on a road trip!" he said.

I hope someone else is doing the driving. I think driving is harder than depositing checks. Maybe almost as hard as small talk, which he doesn't seem after all quite to have mastered yet.