"You are such an academic," someone told me today after I explained I kept checking to make sure my paper REALLY was accepted to NCA. (I just had to make sure!) Needless to say, I took that comment as a compliment.
Right now my parents and brother are suspended somewhere between Seoul and New York City. On their Seoul layover they got online and it was fun to chat with my mother via Facebook. (I do not understand why internet access is not standard for international airports.) She said that the cat was behaving well; quiet out of terror. Poor cat. It will be a new era for the family tomorrow: we will all be in the same time zone for the foreseeable future.
I took a book back to the store today. I bought it with birthday money, but I do not wish to own a book wherein the (male) narrator waxes eloquent about the love interest's beauty and how the "world's promises were on her lips" at seventeen or some nonsense and ten chapters later she is pregnant and marries him. Leaves the university.
Women in that book existed to be daughters and sisters out of action, seen and/or lusted over. And impregnated. Sometimes killed. Also there was incest. It was kind of nauseating, really. Besides, the TRUE LOVE AT SEVENTEEN trope gets old too. The book started with such promise: the characters visited a secret Cemetery of Books. I wanted to visit too.
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