Reading this book right now:

I have to admit, I bought it because of the TARDIS on the cover, and I was hoping that it would have some geeky discussion of time travel and Doctor Who and (hey, the DW theme just came on my iTunes!) alas, a quick flip though the book and perusal of the index reveals nary a word!  It seems that the cover is the only reference I’m going to get.  *grumble*

Nevertheless, I am thoroughly enjoying this book.  I’m not science-minded but this is written in a clear manner that is easy for me to comprehend.  I just finished reading about light refraction and the development of invisibility cloaks.  Apparently, it is currently mostly theoretical but in the not-too-distant future we may have cloaking devices that can render objects invisible. 

To which I say, cooooooooool. 

Currently I am reading about ray guns and the possibilities of light sabers. 

Still, it would have been nice to see someone else to take a whack at the concept of dimensional transcendentalism… 

And it’s not like credible hair pieces were hard to find in other areas.  Sean Connery has been sans-toupee in two movies (Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and Playing By Heart).  Robert Duvall in The Godfather.  Charlie Sheen… All the way back to Humphrey Bogart who lost his hair in the 40’s due to fertility treatments and wore a rug in damn near every movie he ever did. 

In fact the first time I recall seeing actual wigs on men in a movie was in LORD OF THE RINGS.  What, did WETA have to invent those too??

It really does quash my enjoyment of a film, being forced to see the mullets.  I wish someone would explain why all these period movies just had to have the hair done by the people at Road House….

I’ve decided to call myself “Purl Harbor.”  I thought it was pretty clever.  Subtle, yet deadly.  Heh.
I wanted to change my username in Ravelry but APPARENTLY someone else already had it.  Gr.  AND that person had done NOTHING with their page.  It’s just sitting there, taking up a perfectly good screen name and nothing to show for it.  *snarl*
There outta be a law….

 I started out this year pretty well, I even contemplated increasing my book goal because I was going though books so fast.  Although, trying to read a hundred books in a year means a book every 3.66 days (it being leap year).  Thus, I would have needed to have twelve books read already by today, forty-five days into the year.

 (Well 12.295081967213114754098360655738 books to be more exact.)

 That puts me three books behind and it’s only February!  Aack! 

 Although, if I increased from fifty to 75 that would still be not unreasonable as that equals a book every 4.88 days and 9.22 books by today. 

 On the other hand, I am worried that setting my goal to a number of books will just encourage me to read only books that are under, say, 200 pages.  That may be limiting and I am afraid of sacrificing quality over quantity.
To this end, I started reading Henry James’ The Wings of the Dove yesterday.  It’s a 500-page tome about some morally bankrupt  late-fin-de-siecle lovers who are (likely to be) torn apart by the cruelty of fate or something equally depressing.  Or at least I gather that is what most Henry James’ work is about.  I saw the movie a while ago and it was pretty depressing.  A (played by former Merchant-Ivory Costume Drama Darling Helena Bonham Carter) loves B (poor man’s Tim Roth) but they can’t be together because her rich aunt will disinherit her if they marry because of whatever.  Enter C (played by… Some Chick I don’t remember, she’s got red hair) who is rich and… yeah I’m bored just writing this.
Anyway, I didn’t like the movie and now I’m not sure why I’m reading the book.  Oh that’s right, I like to torture myself by reading the most dense boring books possible! (see: The Island of the Day Before, Gravity’s Rainbow, Les Miserables, the Complete Works of Jane Austen…)  

 Damn, I really thought I was getting over that phase. 

 Well, I guess looking at the books I’ve read recently, I’ve done better at alternating between intellectually masochistic reading and fluffy beach blanket reading (i.e. The Bond Books).  What I really need to focus on is reading more nonfiction, I always feel that my book consumption is a little too heavily weighted in favor of fiction. 

“Well to be honest, after years of smoking and drinking, you do sometimes look at yourself and think…You sometimes, inbetween that first cigarette with coffee in the morning to the 400^th glass of cornershop piss at three AM, you do sometimes look at yourself and think…This is fantastic. I’m in heaven.”

As much as I hate to admit it, there is ONE THING that will, in one fell swoop, solve all these problems, simultaneously…

So I’ve taken up jogging. 

I think I can count on one hand the things I would less rather do than go jogging.  I might get to five but only through the addition of baroque James-Bond-villain-esque torture scenarios involving violent forms of sea life.
However, I have to say, that after I go on a jog (and the immediate feeling that I’m going to die has subsided), I feel GREAT.  I feel so good, in fact, that I don’t even care if this is going to get rid of the spare tire around my midsection, because of the overwhelming sense of well-being.
It’s kind of creepy. 

Second book of the year, Gods Behaving Badly by Marie Phillips.  Finished it yesterday afternoon.  It was pleasant, kind of fluffy book.  I would recommend it for summer reading.  As far as the ancient-gods-in-the-modern-world genre is concerned, Neil Gaiman did it better in American Gods but this was very enjoyable. 

That’s two down in the first two weeks of this year.  If I keep up this pace, I’ll have no problem meeting my goal of fifty by the end of the year.  Right now I have on the nightstand (where I keep the books that I’m currently reading before I go to bed…):

The Gormenghast Novels by Mervin Peake
Doctor No by Ian Fleming
The Island of the Day Before by Umberto Eco
The Moor’s Last Sigh by Salman Rushdie
Queen of the South by Atruto Perez-Reverte
Why Men Love Bitches: from Doormat to Dreamgirl—a Woman’s Guide to Holding her Own in a Relationship by Sherry Argov

 Er,…That last one requires some explanation.  I wouldn’t be caught DEAD in the self-help section of a bookstore unless someone were paying me to light it on fire.  This book was a sort-of gag gift for my birthday (‘The perfect book for you, and tied with a black ribbon for your black, black heart…’) and really, like I NEED lessons on how to be a bitch.  So, it’s an entertaining read but doesn’t have anything to tell me that I don’t already know.  (If you give it up too soon, he will lose respect for you and dump you.  Don’t call him back right away, it looks like you have nothing better to do than wait around for him…. GET A LIFE, etc, etc…)