Battered, with a personal space on the shelf, as all good books should be. My weekends, I've found, are by far more ridiculous on the smoking-front than my weeks. Because I like it. As one Bill Hicks said, 'one of my greatest fears, if I quit smoking, is that i'll become one of you whiney non-smokers. I'm not quite so extreme.
Extremists breed no logic.
I saw Madama Butterfly last night. The fact that I found myself yawning somewhere into the second hour made me feel somewhat uncultured and, well, plebish. Aside from this, the subtitles, hanging from a green-light board above the stage insisted on blinking off periodically. Weird sound, hearing an audience of a few hundred all sigh at once. The i.can't.do.this.right.now point.