full life

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1. I don't get it. Yesterday I wake up at 5:00 and watch the Yankees lose on Opening Day, and yet I spend the rest of the day in a good mood. Today, however, I wake up at my regular waking-up time, see the very end of the Yankees trouncing of Tampa Bay, and yet I'm totally zonked out and grumpy.

2. I finished Gregory Maguire's "Lost" the other day, and I can honestly say it's one of the worst books I've ever read. And I don't mean "worst" like how I felt about "American Psycho", which I felt more hate towards than anything else; I mean, this was a poorly written book with little coherent structure, "characters" that I could barely remember enough to not like, and - the best part - a 2-page "Discussion Questions" page, filled with self-important, pretentious retellings of major themes in the book followed by "Did you like this?"

3. So to rinse that horrid taste out of my mouth, I've started reading "Motherless Brooklyn," which I'm enjoying even more than I hated "Lost". It's an absolute pleasure to read; utterly fascinating lead character, of course, but written with such care and subtle grace. I love this one sentence in particular:
Danny existed in suspension, neither black nor white, neither beating up nor beaten, beautiful but unfazed by the concept of girls, rotten at schoolwork but coasting through classes, and frequently unanchored by gravity, floating between pavement and the tangled chain-mesh of the St. Vincent's basketball hoops.