(no subject)
Thu, Sep. 30th, 2004 09:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oyceterWhoo!! My Assassins CD has arrived! I hadn't heard of Sondheim before college.. the first thing of his I saw was a college production of Assassins, which blew my mind. Previously I had heard Cabaret, but pretty much all the other musicals I had heard were fairly typical musicals, and seeing this one was very, very cool. I really need to make my way up to NYC to see it sometime. Or hope that it comes to SF.
An Oaxacan weaver is going to be at my apartment complex on Sat. -- not sure if it's a demonstration or a talk or a display, but I want to go see.
It feels strange... only two days left at the bookstore. So far my to-be-bought stack keeps getting higher. And I'm going to miss it. In consolation, at least it's only a walk away, so I shall hang out and buy books there fairly often, I figure. But I think mostly I'm going to miss general book-talk and having fellow employees who do things like watch Farscape and read comics and genre. And am rather nervous about the new job. The boy keeps reminding me that they've seen my resume; they can't really expect me to know stuff about the industry and whatnot just going in. Must remind self that it will be different from ibanking.
1) "... but now [Name A] is off after [Name B], trying to rescue him as if he were the hero of a book, only the book was written by Malory or Spenser, or more likely Disraeli, while [Name A] was written by Cervantes, and love him as I do, he is not cut out for danger or intrigue, and I am frightened half out of my wits for him ..."
Freedom and Necessity, by Steven Brust and Emma Bull. Name A is Richard, and Name B is James, and it's a bit of a letter written from Kitty to Susan. I had to cut it in a third or something because Kitty's sentences are enormous. Ah, I love this book, and it perpetually amuses me to think of Richard as someone written by Cervantes.
2) "5. Buggre Alle this for a Larke. I amme sick to mye Hart of typefettinge. Master Biltonn if no Gentelmann, and Master Scagges if noe more than a tighte fisted Southwarke Knobbeftick. I telle you, onne a daye laike thif Ennywone withe half an oz. of Sense shoulde bee oute in the Sunneshain, ane nott Stucke here alle the liuelong daie inn thif mowldey olde By-Our-Lady Workefhoppe. @ --*"AE@;!*
"6. And bye the border of Ephraim, from the east fide even untoe the west fide, a potion for Reuben."
Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. This is my absolute favorite part of that book, just because. I really wanted to quote the footnote that goes along with it too, with the angel misplacing his fiery sword ("Er.").
3) "'I am not going to make it twenty thousand and one because your mother didn't allow you to keep rabbits, or whatever is at the root of your unshakable fixation.'
"'I had weasels instead,' said [Name A] shortly.
"'Good God,' said [Name B], looking at her. 'That explains a lot.'"
Pawn in Frankincense, by Dorothy Dunnett. Ahhh, the Lymond Chronicles ^_^. Name A is Philippa and Name B is Lymond, and of course Philippa would have something like weasels. I like the Lymond-Philippa snark in this book tremendously.
4) "My father despaired of me; my sister wondered at me. But my despair was greater if I caged my wonder, like a wild bird."
Winter Rose, by Patricia A. McKillip, which is so far my favorite of her books. I love the first line of the book as well, which made me pick it up and reread it and subsequently find that I finally was at a place in which I enjoyed McKillip.
5) "With her last conscious strength, she cupped her hands and immediately felt the warmth between the palms, as if she held a small sun; and then the heat surged up her arms and into her body, reaching into every niche and cranny, till it had reshaped her flesh into her own precise, familiar, individual contours, and she was neither water nor ice nor unmaking but again herself."
Rose Daughter, by Robin McKinley, in which Beauty uses the small serenity given to her by a salamander. Despite my absolute love for Beauty, I think in the end Rose Daughter won me over because of the gardening, and the hedgehogs, and the quietness of it.
6) "He opened the candy then popped it into his mouth. He and [Name] crunched away in unison. The two of them ate the entire bag thus, chatting sporadically, to no particular end, as they sucked and crunched and moved the hard, aromatic candy with their tongues, clicked it on their teeth."
Dance, by Judy Cuevas, Name being Marie. Now I want to go reread, because Sebastien is quite wibble-worthy. And I like that Cuevas has her heroine and hero sitting together, crunching peppermints, which is something that just doesn't happen too often in romances.
7) "She had always somehow, in her secret heart, never thought of him except in a world of knights and ladies, the sort of world that one read about in the old romances, where hermits knelt praying among the gray rocks and champions rode out to slay dragons from high turreted castles -- not the sort of castles that could ever go to ruin because the scrub had not been cleaned out of the water meadows and there was no money for the ditching and the drainage."
The Perilous Gard, by Elizabeth Marie Pope. I actually wanted to put in Kate's big speech on Christopher looking just like a gingerbread man, but I figured that would be a little more obvious. Or the little bit in the end, when she rather unbelievingly asks him if he's comparing her to land that has to be drained. I like Kate Sutton. I think having the big romantic hero turning out to be someone who just really wants to drain his land is one of my favorite parts of the book (that, and Kate Sutton).
8) "'Now I'm going to do a most unladylike and inexcusable thing," she said, as she pulled her green velvet hat out of its box. 'I'm going to kick this hat about the room until it is without form and void; and I shall never as long as I live wear anything of that shade of green again.'"
Rilla of Ingleside, by L. M. Montgomery, my favorite of the Anne books, mostly because Rilla does incredibly silly things like this, and because she is so much more flawed than Anne, but forced to mature in a horrible period in history.
9) "[He] drove even more heroically on the way back. [She] could not blame him. He had a lot on his mind. But some of his maneuvers did bring a slight taste of green milkshake to the back of her throat, and sometimes she could not prevent herself saying things like 'Aren't you supposed to drive on the other side of the road?' or 'I think that driver was hooting at us.' And after he had dropped her outside her house, she did wonder if he would reach London without getting wrapped round a tree on the way."
Fire and Hemlock, by Diana Wynne Jones (my favorite DWJ book so far), with Thomas driving the car-that-was-a-horse. It makes more sense in the book. And I just like the image of him driving heroically.
10) "She was seventeen that spring, not yet accustomed to men calling her beautiful. A pretty child she had been, but adolescence had found her long-limbed and coltish, prone to skinned knees and bruises from rough play in the gardens at [place] -- activities ultimately deemed unfitting for a Princess of the realm."
The Summer Tree, by Guy Gavriel Kay, describing Sharra, who I adored. I like Diarmuid better than Lymond, probably because I imprinted much earlier on.
An Oaxacan weaver is going to be at my apartment complex on Sat. -- not sure if it's a demonstration or a talk or a display, but I want to go see.
It feels strange... only two days left at the bookstore. So far my to-be-bought stack keeps getting higher. And I'm going to miss it. In consolation, at least it's only a walk away, so I shall hang out and buy books there fairly often, I figure. But I think mostly I'm going to miss general book-talk and having fellow employees who do things like watch Farscape and read comics and genre. And am rather nervous about the new job. The boy keeps reminding me that they've seen my resume; they can't really expect me to know stuff about the industry and whatnot just going in. Must remind self that it will be different from ibanking.
1) "... but now [Name A] is off after [Name B], trying to rescue him as if he were the hero of a book, only the book was written by Malory or Spenser, or more likely Disraeli, while [Name A] was written by Cervantes, and love him as I do, he is not cut out for danger or intrigue, and I am frightened half out of my wits for him ..."
Freedom and Necessity, by Steven Brust and Emma Bull. Name A is Richard, and Name B is James, and it's a bit of a letter written from Kitty to Susan. I had to cut it in a third or something because Kitty's sentences are enormous. Ah, I love this book, and it perpetually amuses me to think of Richard as someone written by Cervantes.
2) "5. Buggre Alle this for a Larke. I amme sick to mye Hart of typefettinge. Master Biltonn if no Gentelmann, and Master Scagges if noe more than a tighte fisted Southwarke Knobbeftick. I telle you, onne a daye laike thif Ennywone withe half an oz. of Sense shoulde bee oute in the Sunneshain, ane nott Stucke here alle the liuelong daie inn thif mowldey olde By-Our-Lady Workefhoppe. @ --*"AE@;!*
"6. And bye the border of Ephraim, from the east fide even untoe the west fide, a potion for Reuben."
Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. This is my absolute favorite part of that book, just because. I really wanted to quote the footnote that goes along with it too, with the angel misplacing his fiery sword ("Er.").
3) "'I am not going to make it twenty thousand and one because your mother didn't allow you to keep rabbits, or whatever is at the root of your unshakable fixation.'
"'I had weasels instead,' said [Name A] shortly.
"'Good God,' said [Name B], looking at her. 'That explains a lot.'"
Pawn in Frankincense, by Dorothy Dunnett. Ahhh, the Lymond Chronicles ^_^. Name A is Philippa and Name B is Lymond, and of course Philippa would have something like weasels. I like the Lymond-Philippa snark in this book tremendously.
4) "My father despaired of me; my sister wondered at me. But my despair was greater if I caged my wonder, like a wild bird."
Winter Rose, by Patricia A. McKillip, which is so far my favorite of her books. I love the first line of the book as well, which made me pick it up and reread it and subsequently find that I finally was at a place in which I enjoyed McKillip.
5) "With her last conscious strength, she cupped her hands and immediately felt the warmth between the palms, as if she held a small sun; and then the heat surged up her arms and into her body, reaching into every niche and cranny, till it had reshaped her flesh into her own precise, familiar, individual contours, and she was neither water nor ice nor unmaking but again herself."
Rose Daughter, by Robin McKinley, in which Beauty uses the small serenity given to her by a salamander. Despite my absolute love for Beauty, I think in the end Rose Daughter won me over because of the gardening, and the hedgehogs, and the quietness of it.
6) "He opened the candy then popped it into his mouth. He and [Name] crunched away in unison. The two of them ate the entire bag thus, chatting sporadically, to no particular end, as they sucked and crunched and moved the hard, aromatic candy with their tongues, clicked it on their teeth."
Dance, by Judy Cuevas, Name being Marie. Now I want to go reread, because Sebastien is quite wibble-worthy. And I like that Cuevas has her heroine and hero sitting together, crunching peppermints, which is something that just doesn't happen too often in romances.
7) "She had always somehow, in her secret heart, never thought of him except in a world of knights and ladies, the sort of world that one read about in the old romances, where hermits knelt praying among the gray rocks and champions rode out to slay dragons from high turreted castles -- not the sort of castles that could ever go to ruin because the scrub had not been cleaned out of the water meadows and there was no money for the ditching and the drainage."
The Perilous Gard, by Elizabeth Marie Pope. I actually wanted to put in Kate's big speech on Christopher looking just like a gingerbread man, but I figured that would be a little more obvious. Or the little bit in the end, when she rather unbelievingly asks him if he's comparing her to land that has to be drained. I like Kate Sutton. I think having the big romantic hero turning out to be someone who just really wants to drain his land is one of my favorite parts of the book (that, and Kate Sutton).
8) "'Now I'm going to do a most unladylike and inexcusable thing," she said, as she pulled her green velvet hat out of its box. 'I'm going to kick this hat about the room until it is without form and void; and I shall never as long as I live wear anything of that shade of green again.'"
Rilla of Ingleside, by L. M. Montgomery, my favorite of the Anne books, mostly because Rilla does incredibly silly things like this, and because she is so much more flawed than Anne, but forced to mature in a horrible period in history.
9) "[He] drove even more heroically on the way back. [She] could not blame him. He had a lot on his mind. But some of his maneuvers did bring a slight taste of green milkshake to the back of her throat, and sometimes she could not prevent herself saying things like 'Aren't you supposed to drive on the other side of the road?' or 'I think that driver was hooting at us.' And after he had dropped her outside her house, she did wonder if he would reach London without getting wrapped round a tree on the way."
Fire and Hemlock, by Diana Wynne Jones (my favorite DWJ book so far), with Thomas driving the car-that-was-a-horse. It makes more sense in the book. And I just like the image of him driving heroically.
10) "She was seventeen that spring, not yet accustomed to men calling her beautiful. A pretty child she had been, but adolescence had found her long-limbed and coltish, prone to skinned knees and bruises from rough play in the gardens at [place] -- activities ultimately deemed unfitting for a Princess of the realm."
The Summer Tree, by Guy Gavriel Kay, describing Sharra, who I adored. I like Diarmuid better than Lymond, probably because I imprinted much earlier on.
(no subject)
Fri, Oct. 1st, 2004 12:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
Fri, Oct. 1st, 2004 09:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Fri, Oct. 1st, 2004 05:33 am (UTC)I adore Christopher as drainage guy, too. Mmmm.
(no subject)
Fri, Oct. 1st, 2004 09:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Fri, Oct. 1st, 2004 07:01 am (UTC)Oh my GOD, I've just lost all my Lymond credibility by not knowing that.
And I'm kicking myself because I knew I knew 10 from somewhere.
(no subject)
Fri, Oct. 1st, 2004 09:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Fri, Oct. 1st, 2004 10:20 am (UTC)(no subject)
Fri, Oct. 1st, 2004 09:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Fri, Oct. 1st, 2004 12:29 pm (UTC)We're the other national anthem, folks,
the ones that can't get in to the ball park! Spread the word!
There's another national anthem, folks,
For those who never win,
For the suckers, for the pikers, for the ones who might have been
...
Sure, the mailman won the lottery...
(no subject)
Fri, Oct. 1st, 2004 09:32 pm (UTC)It's frightening listening to it this time around, with 9/11 in mind.