Home-cooked dinner!
Consuelo. George Sand was obviously on the good crack when she wrote it, because the entire middle section involves Our Heroine undertaking a month-long journey on foot from Bumfuck Middle-Of-Spooky-Ass-Nowhere, Bohemia to Vienna, disguised as a male travelling minstrel, accompanied by a sixteen-year-old Joseph Haydn with a massive crush on her. It is wonderfully surreal. And the bits that take place in Spooky Castle In Bohemia are filled with all sorts of high-octane nightmare fuel, including one scene that takes you by surprise in the OH MY GOD I DIDN'T THINK THIS WAS AN ANN RADCLIFFE NOVEL way and is immediately followed by Our Heroine escaping certain death (because if she died what would the next seven hundred pages be about?), only to end up in the scene that probably inspired The Cask of Amontillado.
Also, I have hatched a Cunning Plan to thwart the DMV--namely, there's a form you can get your "vision specialist" to fill out that certifies you have at least 20/40 vision. I have to go to the doctor anyway for various prescriptions, so while I'm there I might as well get her to do a real eye test on a real, physical chart, none of this monkey business with reading blurry letters on a machine that's probably older than I am. Last time I took a real eye test (as in two weeks ago) I was 20/30 -1 in both eyes, so... yeah, I'm thinking it was the machine that was faulty and not MY VISION.
*grumble grumble* Stupid DMV.
Consuelo. George Sand was obviously on the good crack when she wrote it, because the entire middle section involves Our Heroine undertaking a month-long journey on foot from Bumfuck Middle-Of-Spooky-Ass-Nowhere, Bohemia to Vienna, disguised as a male travelling minstrel, accompanied by a sixteen-year-old Joseph Haydn with a massive crush on her. It is wonderfully surreal. And the bits that take place in Spooky Castle In Bohemia are filled with all sorts of high-octane nightmare fuel, including one scene that takes you by surprise in the OH MY GOD I DIDN'T THINK THIS WAS AN ANN RADCLIFFE NOVEL way and is immediately followed by Our Heroine escaping certain death (because if she died what would the next seven hundred pages be about?), only to end up in the scene that probably inspired The Cask of Amontillado.
Also, I have hatched a Cunning Plan to thwart the DMV--namely, there's a form you can get your "vision specialist" to fill out that certifies you have at least 20/40 vision. I have to go to the doctor anyway for various prescriptions, so while I'm there I might as well get her to do a real eye test on a real, physical chart, none of this monkey business with reading blurry letters on a machine that's probably older than I am. Last time I took a real eye test (as in two weeks ago) I was 20/30 -1 in both eyes, so... yeah, I'm thinking it was the machine that was faulty and not MY VISION.
*grumble grumble* Stupid DMV.
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