Racket and clamour and uproar and much ado about nothing in particular. My day is nothing but annoying noise. Noise of construction work outside. Noise of a neverending party in the house across the street that, yes, I can hear from here. I can feel bass pumping through the walls. Walls that are a a couple of dozen yards apart. Now noise from a football match in the background, Idontcare vs. Whothefuck, Boyfriend attending more closely to the ballchasers than to anything I said in the last two weeks. Now he yells “Incredible!”
No, the Higgs boson is incredible. Someone getting a ball into a really large rectangle? Not so much.
I saw A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night the weekend before last and it was awesome. Of course my inner linguistic nerd was sitting there sound shifts at the ready; the movie’s in Farsi. Farsi’s remotely related to most European languages. Know your sound shifts and you can reconstruct word and geek out over the fact that you just discovered a word that is similar to one in another language. It’s good fun, for a linguist.
Anyway, good movie, very different which is much appreciated between the comic book heroes and the umpteenth remake of some cheesy film from yesteryear, though at times, with some scenes (random guy in drag dancing with a balloon, what?) bordering on too artsy. Don’t you like Iranian vampires in ghost towns? Oh, and the soundtrack! Bit of an obsession there.
I also had chocolate popcorn. There is apparently a place in my town that sells all manner of weird popcorn flavours like apple strudel and strawberry and white chocolate and I give you three guesses where my spending money went.
Finding it hard to concentrate through the background noise and the ever possible threat of having someone looking over my shoulder. People are a disturbing presence. It brings you out of wherever you where while you were writing.
I’m still not enthusiastic about my next two presentations, not least because of the group setups. And the topics. I’m so bored this semester, yet always so busy. Busy with a dozen boring things when I’d rather finish my research proposal and start writing.
Now Boyfriend’s saying something that doesn’t interest me. He should know that. Is he talking to the TV again? I mean… so there’s people in blue and people in red hurrying after a ball, what is there to comment on? Isn’t it ultimately so whatever who wins? They’re all overpaid and their entire organisation is making the mafia look like a charity event.
And he just keeps talking! Why is he still talking? Stop talking! Yes, they do have funny names, your running men in colourful shorts, now stop talking! Turn that infernal nonsense off and stop bothering me!
Of course he won’t.