(I’m writing this on the train. The sky is pink and fluffy with the sunset. The waxing moon is peeking through cotton candy clouds. I am listening to Mark Kozelek’s album of Modest Mouse covers, which is as close as I get to actually listening to Modest Mouse. I am bookless and lost in thought.)

So, I’ve finished reading YORAS. And it only took me three months and 25 days (give or take a few hours) to do it!

I’ve gone into a little bit of explanation as to why the book has taken me so long to finish—short-story-like chapters, an unfamiliar author with an unusual narrative style, the Adam Carolla Show—so I won’t go over it again.

The book was a much-needed departure from my normal fare. Beyond the narrative style, which featured ideas and abstract characterization instead of relationships and emotions, YORAS focused on the eastern world to the exclusion of everything European and North American. I’ve read a lot of historical fiction, but it’s always Europe-based, and my contemporary fiction reading lists are the same.

Before I get too carried away, I suppose I should describe the premise of this book. Basically, it’s the story of a group of souls that travel from life to life repeating (correcting, remembering, learning from, forgetting) the same mistakes in a world where the population of Europe was eradicated during the Black Death. China and Islam fight for control and the souls find themselves on every side of the battle. The story spans 700-odd years, from the time of the plague to the present.

This is definitely a guy’s book, and not just because the cover is masculinely swathed in blacks and reds. The characters felt like they were presented at arm’s length, so even though I was seeing the same souls over and over, it still took me more than half of the book to get a good read on them. Also there was a lot of talk about machines and tools and not much talk about clothing and makeup, so that’s always a good indication the book is written with men in mind. (I wish I were kidding. Ah, chicklit, what have you done to me?)

I found it interesting that Kim Stanley Robinson pretty much stuck to our timeframe for inventions and world events. China visited America around the time that the Spaniards did in real life; trains showed up at nearly the same time; the Great War took place in the equivalent to the 20th century; the modern people had e-mail.

But that got me thinking: how much of what we do is based on the individuals performing the act and how much is driven by the momentum of our collective humanity? Would there be opera if there was no Italy? Would explorers have been so quick to take to the seas if Europe was lying open to them, fertile and uninhabited? Would the people of Africa, Australia and America have lived an unmolested, happy life, unaware of the rest of the world, for centuries more than they did?

That’s it. This is too much to think about; I’m back to chicklit. I think C dropped off a book about a bachelorette party? . . .

Another busy period at the office has come to an end and I’m finding it hard to remember what a weekend without having to work feels like. I have a feeling I won’t have much time to celebrate, as two major projects are joining what is already a writing and design intensive time of year.

But at least I can work in my jammies, unlike when we’re in season.

Anyways.

Elena was giving me a hard time this morning because she had to find out from an alternate source that Joss Whedon and Eliza Dushku are working together for a Fox series. (Hey, Elena, Joss also directed an episode of The Office. And it had vampires in it! And you never knew!)

She was also giving me a hard time about reading after I suggested that she take the writer’s strike (somehow this is my fault too—it turns out chimps with nicotine dependencies aren’t responsible for General Hospital) as an opportunity to read a book for a change. “Why don’t you read a book?” was her snarky reply (emphasis mine; when will Messenger create a sarcasm font?)

I am reading a book. Just really, really, ridiculously slowly.

It’s not that I’m not enjoying it, because I am. It’s just that it’s broken into about 70-page mini-stories and I’m so easily distracted. I finish a section and immediately want to start listening to one of the 10,000 albums I acquired over the past six months. And Years of Rice and Salt takes a lot of concentration, so I certainly can’t listen to Beatallica while reading. (Or ever.)

Now that it’s cold and dark again and I’ve started taking more baths and having less to look at from the train, I’ve been plowing through the book one mini-story at a time. And now that the season’s over at work a lazy Sunday morning or two should get me back on track.

P.S. Psst! Elena! Wanna watch the BSG movie? It’s been leaked! Happy torrenting!

So I know that I've been a bad blogger, but life seems to have taken hold of me once again and left me no time for this blog. I blame it on the fact that it's Oct. 21 today and 24 freaking degrees outside! Who can blog when it's been Indian Summer for two whole months? (The answer to that is "not me, apparently.")

I watched the entire first season of Friday Night Lights in time to watch the premiere of season two, and god was it worth it. It's my new BSG and Deadwood, in that it's a genre that I'm not normally attracted to but the writing and acting manages to gut-punch me each and every week. So, in keeping with the topic name, here's my one-sentence review of FNL, followed by a short review of the other new shows I'm watching this season:

Friday Night Lights: I know I'm probably alone in this, but I don't hate the new season or the Big Bad Twist.

Reaper: It took me three separate watchings to get through the first ep so I gave up.

The Tudors: Surprisingly accurate, at least as far as Henry's love life goes.

Journeyman: I've been meaning to get to this!

Bionic Woman: First ep dropped off the Replay so I deleted the rest.

Pushing Daisies: So freaking fab, fantastic and pretty that I want to laugh and cry and eat pie all day.

Samantha Who?: I will watch anything featuring Christina Applegate, but even without her I might have watched this supercute show.

Did I miss anything?

Oh my God, I am so in love with Chuck that I don't know that I can talk about it coherently.

I haven't watched a lot of the new shows (only Reaper, Gossip Girl and, well, that's it really), but this one is rocking my world. So what if the bomb in the first episode would never have been connected to the Internet in a million, billion years? And what are the odds that anyone could fly a chopper by imaging it's a computer game?

But who cares about that when the show is so damned funny? From the Geek Squad to Captain Awesome ("Indeed!") to the ridiculously accessorized fight scenes, the series is hitting my comedy sweet spot.

Also, why did nobody tell me Adam Baldwin was on this show? I love Adam Baldwin! Like, love-love him! A Firefly-loving colleague once told me that he's a rampant gun-loving Republican and even that isn't enough to make me stop loving him! I would watch him react to paint drying, I would. Love, love, love, love, love. (Jana, that started out as just gushing and after the third "love" I just decided to go for it!)

I love this show, I really, really do.

Love.

I’m watching my first soccer game. It’s Music Club tonight and Tim and Alan are heading out to Lal’s after the game, so I figure I may as well see what all the fuss is about. I turn on the TV and the first thing I see is Tim and Alan in a zoom-in on the crowd. (As I keep watching and realize that the swaths of red in the audience are empty seats, I can understand why they panned in on the crazy fanatic section.)

Here are my thoughts, uncensored:

• I must say that it’s pretty funny to hear the English commentator say “soccer.” He kinda chokes on it a bit.
  
  
• The refs look like they must get quite a workout. Unlike the umps in baseball (the only sport I watch), they’re actually fit! I like the ref’s short-shorts. Very cute! They make his knees look extra nobby.
  
  
• I wonder, did soccer players not get the memo that long hair went out in 1997, or are they cutting-edge on the new long-hair trend?
  
  
• It looks like it will rain. Do they play in the rain or are their cleats lightning magnets?
  
  
• How do the Real Salt Lake players celebrate when they’re playing at home if it’s a dry state?
  
  
• Soccer players are kinda pusses, aren’t they? Just lay on the grass, writhing and whining until the ref gives out a yellow card? How unmanly!
  
  
• Oh, it turns out Utah is not a dry state. Scratch that comment.
  
  
• I wonder if TFC’s choice to wear red shirts was a bad idea. (“He’s dead, Jim.”)
  
  
• The Canadian broadcaster just called it “football.” That must irk the English guy to no end.
  
  
• Do they take commercials?
  
  
• The commentators are now determining that Toronto FC is about three games away from matching a U.K. record for number of hours played without a goal. Alan must be so proud.
  
  
• Ooh! Tussle!
  
  
• Red card for RSL. That’s a pisser. Now let’s see if TFC can score with a one-man advantage.
  
  
• If you’re up a man, shouldn’t you be able to keep the ball on the opponent’s half of the field for more than 40 seconds at a time? One would think, right?
  
  
• The goal is on the ground, TFC; not 45 feet in the air.
  
  
• Hey! They don’t stop the clock when they’re setting stuff up? Or is that what this two minutes added time is?
  
  
• Half time! Nil-nil! (See, I’m getting the lingo down already!)

So far I have to say this is not as boring as I thought. It’s been an hour but it really doesn’t feel like it. I like that they have a 20-minute break at half time as it gave me time to have a shower and order some food. Probably like at the stadium! Minus the shower!

• Someone on RSL was hurt and needed medical attention and then was fine! What’s up with that? Either you’re hurt or you’re not; stop wasting everyone’s time.
  
  
• Was that a goal?!? Oh, no. Never mind.
  
  
• No, no, fellas. The goal is the thing that guy is protecting, not the wide open space surrounding it.
  
  
• The commentator has to stop saying things like: “This surely is the goal!” It’s just embarrassing after a while.
  
  
• Update: 800 minutes without a goal.
  
  
• Is the TFC coach a ginger? Hee!
  
  
• What the fuck? The guy has a cramp and we all stand around? Putz.
  
  
• Toronto 22 shots at goal, Salt Lake 5. Man, RSL can’t give this game away.
  
  
• Now they’re comparing MLS to the CFL, suggesting that there will at least be a goal in the Argos/Lions game. Hah!
  
  
• Oh YEAH! YEAH! OH YEAH! My pizza’s here!
  
  
• Four minutes left. Let’s see if they can do it! (They can’t.)

And there’s the game. Wow. It must be depressing being a Toronto FC fan.