A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal. -Oscar Wilde

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Les mals mots, les bons mots

I am so very tired of typing certain words. Words like "coverage" and "Massachusetts" and "assessment." I either need to set a macro, or pick an entirely different topic for my Masters essay next semester. I've done so much research on the Massachusetts health reform and the Prescription for Pennsylvania, but I still feel oddly unqualified to write the paper I'm writing. Ugh.

As a de-stresser I've been reading (okay, re-reading) Agatha Christie novels. I love a good mystery, and, I confess, I love me some Hercule Poirot. Poor French and all. The problem I have with many mysteries is how obvious they are from the onset. There's a reason why most are considered genre writing rather than literature (this is true of sci-fi and fantasy as well, which is probably why I read so little of those genres, too). So if I'm going to be stuck with a genre book, well, why not ones that are magnificent period pieces as well? I haven't looked at And Then There Were None or Murder on the Orient Express in a good 15 years, so it was fun re-discovering those gems. Plus, they're pretty quick reads.

Speaking of vintage things and period pieces, I lust for this poster:

Mont St. Michel by Albert Bergevin
Mont St. Michel

Beautiful! It combines one of the most hauntingly beautiful places I've visited with the eclectic bohemian vintage French aesthetique I covet. WANT. I want this one, too:

Your Victory Garden by Morley
Your Victory Garden

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