In addition to the two books I mentioned in my last post, I’ve managed to read the first four installments of Meljean Brook’s The Kraken King serial. I feel like maybe my reading mojo is returning? *looks around furtively and whispers the words*
I like the serial very well, although I do not love the format. That’s just personal taste, and I can live with it. The only substantive criticism I have is a couple of typos and that the book/serial does not stand alone very well. I’ve read the first of Brook’s steampunk books but nothing more, and I feel like I’ve missed a lot of worldbuilding and relationship establishment. One can read the serial without that and enjoy it (I certainly am) but I get the feeling that I’d be enjoying the installments just a little bit more if I had the full background.
Now on my Kindle: The Game by Ken Dryden. I’ve read raves of this as The Best
Hockey Sports Book Ever, so… Except. Except I’m a little disappointed by Dryden’s piece on PK Subban and Carey Price; it kind of reinforces (I think) some ugly racial stereotypes that have been hockey blog fodder during the Montreal/Boston series after some of the fan and player behavior by Boston.
Paris is looming large on the horizon and my few words of French are terrible. “Je mange des fraises rouges” is probably not the most useful thing I could have learned in advance of my trip, no? But I’ve got some more useful phrases down (Ou est la gare? and the like) and have a pocket phrase book. I have not yet decided which paper book I shall pack for airplane reading.
Below the cut for random personal stuff unrelated to reading.
On the work front all is well. It’s going very well, actually 🙂 On the home front, things are good. I’ve been in my new house for just over a year and am very pleased with it. I don’t miss my old place, which is good I guess, but a surprise because I’m usually a creature of habit and 10 years is a long habit.
General observation: people who would never in a million years have told me I was fat are now telling me that I’m skinny or frail. Uh, okay, not really. I’m at the upper end for healthy on every BMI chart for my height. You just think that because you are comparing Me Today with Me Three Years Ago. Please stop. Please also stop asking if I think I’ve lost enough. It’s not a question of “enough” — my doctor gave a goal weight and her professional perspective is one I rely on. Thank you for worrying but I’m not starving myself or working out excessively; this will end up being an almost three year project done under medical guidance. I eat enough, I rest enough, I maybe don’t sleep enough but that is another issue entirely.
They are also telling me that I need a match.com profile. Um, no, thank you. I prefer to meet random people in other venues, usually with alcohol at hand to dull my social anxiety. Or they are telling me that I should find a single guy my age within my extended family, because that’s safest. (Yeah, I’m pretty sure I was wearing a WTF look when I got that piece of advice. Where to start even unpacking that?) Or asking if I’m dating a lot because I’ve been wearing date-clothes to work sometimes. Which, uh, I mostly wear business attire and suits: not date clothing unless I’m meeting a fellow with a fetish for women in three button suits. (They are out there but I’m not currently acquainted with any, sorry.)
Looking at those last two paragraphs, I’m trying to figure out if there’s a larger message from my friends and colleagues that I’m missing. Maybe that I’ve changed enough to unsettle them? Or maybe I should just take it at face value that they want me to be healthy and believe that being not-single would also make me happy. The last is a questionable assumption but I appreciate the thought.