Right now I'm sitting in the Starbucks across the street from where I live, trying valiantly yet vainly to concentrate on Gertrude Stein's infinitely irritating prose style. I've got a whole sofa set, all four seats, all to myself--it pays to be here early--but I keep trying to eavesdrop on the pastor (and his parishioners? relatives? don't know, who cares) sitting on the set behind me.
It's annoying, though, that I can't make out the words. I'm particularly sensitive to low baritones--it overrides all other sounds, which is why I pitch my brother out of the living room whenever I'm trying to watch TV--so here I am, trying to read Melanctha but with a relentless susurrus (sic? can't look up proper spelling right now) in the background.
Gah. It's enough to make me scream in frustration. But since I would like to come back here in the future, am posting crossly about it instead.
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.