nellacitta

Does anyone else remember that line in The Great Gatsby where Daisy says she always tries to remember the summer Solstice and always misses it? I have OFTEN OFTEN done that and then kicked myself for being like Daisy. (I mean, I might read that whole book differently with my more grown up feminist lens, now that I think about it, but at the time, reading it through Fitzgerald, I wholeheartedly despised her.)

Well, anyway. Happy Solstice.

Speaking of feminism, I saw a banner today on the side of a coffee shop declaring "Andrologues: Monologues written by and about men." Speechless with fury might be a good way to describe my reaction. "Will you be performing Shakespeare then, or Greek plays?" I angrily muttered to myself. Seriously not getting the point. (Also, "andro" made me think of "androids" and I would SO be into a series of monologues written by robots for robots. Disappointing.)

Alright, that's it from my random stop by. Next up: cuddling a bunny.