and then maybe go swimming. in Lake Michigan. and write a love letter to the Forestry Service.

I don't really like taking baths, although now that I type that I can't remember the last time I did, so maybe it's one of the many things I'll someday discover I've grown into liking along with the taste of mint and driving with the windows down.

Anyway: I don't take baths recreationally, and I definitely don't read in the bath, because OMG THE BOOK MIGHT GET WET. It's just not a relaxing frame of mind.

That said, at 61 pages into Under a Flaming Sky, The Great Hinckley Firestorm of 1894, I am thinking that submerged in water might be the only way I can finish this book.


Dear Everyone, No Matter How Much You Might Have Irritated Me At Any Time,

Please DO NOT die in a fire.

kthx,
dira


o.O

I'm just saying.

Recently I noticed that, slasher though I am, I am really kind of a sucker for the canon het pairing: Mulder/Scully, John/Aeryn, Josh/Donna, every bandom guy/his current wife or girlfriend, Spock/Uhura, and so on.

So here I was watching Varg Veum (oh, come on, you knew it was coming around to that, didn't you?) and it took me until the third movie to realize that ( spoilers? )

PS Look, there's a tag now! I believe that this now means that if you are reading me on Dreamwidth, you can selectively filter out all my posts about Norwegian crime movies. \o?