Lazyday and Operawoman

I’ve been working pretty hard all week on the March ish, so I’m kinda tired out at this point. Plus, the wound on my right hand has made me contort my typing style all week, and that’s led to a weird pain in my right pinkie-finger. Grr.

Anyway, I finished Snow earlier today, and was much less interested in the last third than I was in the first two-thirds. A lot of what made the character of Ka interesting was lost when the object of his desire returned his affection. It made the rest of his actions driven almost solely by his lust, which drained any novelty from his character. Oh, well.

We’re headed off to Seattle next week for another wedding, so I’ll need to figure out what book I’m taking along with me for the trip. Maybe Dead Souls, which I’ve never read, but which was given to me as a gift on a previous Seattle trip.

Tonight, Amy’s treating herself to opera-night: Eugene Onegin at the Met. I’ll  occupy myself without drinking between 8pm and 11 or thereabouts. I’d like to stay up around Lincoln Center, but I don’t think there’s a ton for me to do, beyond my retailnaut exploration of the Time Warner Center.

So I may head down to the Village and see the Kochalka opening at Giant Robot. Or I can haunt Veselka and get all caffeinated for the evening. Since it’ll be a night-visit, I can’t promise any good pix, but I’ll do my best, dear reader.