Tuesday, October 27, 2009

I finished Dracula last night, shockingly ahead of schedule thanks to an alarmingly persistent and vigorous cold that kept me couchbound for most of my long weekend. Those are some seriously boneheaded heroes Stoker gives us. (This is probably not a surprise to anyone who has seen any Dracula-related thing ever, but as we have talked about before, I am a big baby about scary things.) There's a vampire next door and you send the one woman among you off to bed because you don't want all the thinking to worry her? Whatever. You know what's going to hurt more than taxing her poor little brain? Being chewed on by Dracula.

This cold shows up like clockwork every year around the end of October. My immune system is really less of a system and more a loosely connected string of suggestions, and I'll probably end up felled by the first serious epidemic to walk down my street. If life were a disaster movie, I'd be gone after the first five minutes. The fact that I am still alive is proof that life is not actually a disaster movie, which is helpful because I wonder sometimes.

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