Tuesday, September 10, 2002
 

Elvisette has been reading all day. Elvisette is tired of reading. Elvisette would now like to look at a magazine with pretty pictures, watch the idiot box, or maybe just lie on the futon and drool. Excepting the latter (which may occur due to extreme mental fatigue), none of these are likely to happen.

In the meantime, I did manage to finish my Faulkner reading, which featured a bucolic romance between a mentally retarded child and a cow. Love is in the air, or something. This shining moment in Southern lit (admittedly, it is quite well-done) reminds me of something Carson McCullers (Southern writer who left the south to go live in New York) once said about her return visits to the South: "I must go home periodically to renew my sense of horror." Perhaps all you native Southerners out there can identify.

In the meantime, I should probably go continue my reading, which is, at the moment, 20 pages of statistics about farming in the South from the early part of the 20th century to the 1950s. I'm dangling Howards End in front of my face, hoping to produce a carrot-and-stick effect. Since I'm over here blogging, it's apparently not working . . .

Ok. Enough break. Back to work.

Elvisette philosophized at 7:17 PM