... life, Cologne, this morning in June.

Unbelievably, I finished the third book for Literature class before we got to talking about it. And, before finishing it, I remembered the missing link.
[I won't say much about it, because that would contain spoilers for both the book and the movie The Hours. Yes, I've turned really spoiler-conscientious, haven't I. Oh, and Hamlet still dies.]
I was sitting in kaneda's room and reading, anyway; and I came to a certain point before the Big Revelation; and I remembered the Big Revelation (I'd seen the movie, after all, but I'd totally forgotten about this point.) I had, all the time, wondered where that missing link between Mrs Brown and Clarissa was, and there it came back to me.
The strange thing is that it felt like more than a remembering. It was almost as if, by suddenly knowing, I was transported into the story, to be - oh, I dunno, Julia perhaps: To belong into it, to be a part of it. I realized what I had overlooked, or forgotten, and it was as though at that point I realized that I was a part of the story. Lucid reading.
Meanwhile, kaneda and eliathanis where singing Enka-songs next door. So I sat there in my pseudo-enlightenment and even heard the music. Eh heh. I'm so going over the edge.
Though not unpleasant.

Unpleasant, however, is trying to find a strapless bra to fit me. It seems to be altogether impossible to get either one that manages to hold my boobs and doesn't give me the feeling to stand around basically bare-breasted, or one that doesn't cost half a fortune. Gaakh.

So tonight is my brother's prom. And because Jörg couldn't accompany me to my own prom, two years ago, for reasons better left unsaid, I had the brilliant idea to go to my brother's prom with him. 3:15 hours left, and it's beginning to feel like a really, really stupid idea. I can't dance (except for a few medieval round dances, and it's unlikely that Traubentritt or Chabloise will be asked for). I can dance even less with my left foot blistered from running and Kendō practice. I can't even walk normally in high-heeled shoes. I'll be wearing the same dress I wore for my prom, which, albeit ok, isn't exactly what I'd hoped it would be but that was of old the fate of Arda Marred. I don't have a strapless bra I trust. I can't handle make-up to save my life, and I have no idea what to do with my hair. And, for heaven's sake, it's my brother's prom. It's bad enough to be the Big Sister. And I sound like the sort of person I absolutely despise.
</ whiney girlish mode>

Oh well.

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( ... das Leben, Köln, an diesem Junimorgen. )

</ Jammerlappenmodus>
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In Other News...

... isn't it sad that I try preparing another presentation, and I just can't keep anything from the stupid text in mind? I read it, I read it again, and whatever it said, I forgot it immediately. The only thing I could remember, and that managed to veer my mind off the text's contexts for good, was the bibliographical information, (cf. POTTER & GRANGER, 1987). That's just So Wrong.

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( Übrigens... )

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