A Break From The Action

As comparing all SEC teams to 80s hair bands is going to take time (especially locating pictures that won't frighten small children), today will be a break from football talk. Today's about catching up with: me.

What I'm Reading:
Specimen Days - Michael Cunningham. Cunningham is the PEN/Faulkner and Pulitzer Prize winning author of The Hours (previously known to me as "that movie where Nicole Kidman worse a fake nose) which was based on Virginia Woolf. I'm not afraid of the book, but this one seemed more interesting (and there goes my "Old Liz Taylor movie reference of the month"). It's three novellas more than a complete novel; the unifying theme (so far, given that I haven't gotten to part 3, or novella 3, or whatever the proper word is) is Walt Whitman and New York City. To me, this is good stuff--I don't like the Yankees (hate, or "wish them ill" might be more accurate descriptors) but I love Manhattan.

What I'm Listening To:
Butch Walker, obviously. Also some old Tori Amos (don't say anything), The Mars Volta, Peeping Tom, Damien Rice, Jeff Buckley, and a good bit of classical (mostly Russian guys from the Romantic period; the "Rach 3" and "Rite of Spring" are getting a good bit of play, yet "Rhapsody in Blue" jazz hands its way in there too.)

What I'm Watching:
House (well, prior to MLB fouling it up--see also: Simpsons, The and the rest of the Sunday night lineup.), LOST, Grey's Anatomy, and Desparate Housewives (note: I was lured into this show by outside forces possessing strong femine charms...though the writing so far has been impressive enough that I would probably watch even if I didn't have someone to watch it with. Whether this is sappy or unmanly I'll leave up to you.)