Stalker

Since it's my birthday, I treated myself this morning.

There's a gallery, between L'Enfant Plaza and Navy Yard, which contains a single exhibit, and a single piece in that exhibit. It appears between 7:30 and 8:00 in the morning, and has long flowing red hair.

I took the yellow line from Gallery Place and had to change trains at L'Enfant, to catch the green line to Navy Yard. I may have missed the next green line train. And then I saw her. I looked once, while rubbing my other eye, and then continued to read.

Telling

Let me tell you of my strange wrestle not to tell a woman I thought she was attractive. My impulse is to tell her, despite the fact she's unapproachable. At first I only felt impulse, but as I resisted, that impulse demanded explanation. The explanation was this: a woman does not want to hear she is beautiful from just anyone. Most of the time, the unexpected feedback is given by someone disinterested, and the rest of the time, this feedback is expected or hoped for.

In scenario, disinterested would not describe me.

Indented First Lines

As you can see from my post below, I am having a little trouble indenting the first line. For some reason blogger strips out the spaces, or even tabs, or even nbsp's. Yet another tiny thing to have to know/worry about when blogging.

Rand's Phrasing

I should include an example of what I mean by Ayn Rand's imagery and phrasing, and only in the first chapter!

Mrs. Keating was out on the porch. She was feeding a couple of canaries in a cage suspended over the railing. Her pudgy little hand stopped in mid-air when she saw him. She watched him with curiosity. She tried to pull her mouth into a proper expression of sympathy; she succeeded only in betraying that the process was an effort.
He was crossing the porch without noticing her. She stopped him.
"Mr. Roark!"
"Yes?"
"Mr. Roark, I'm so sorry about--" she hesitated demurely "--about what happened this morning."
"What?" he asked.
"Your being expelled from the Institute. I can't tell you how sorry I am. I only want you to know that I feel for you."
He stood looking at her. She knew that he did not see her. No, she thought, it was not that exactly. He always looked straight at people and his damnable eyes never missed a thing, it was only that he made people feel as if they did not exist. He just stood looking. He would not answer.
"But what I say," she continued, "is that if one suffers in this world, it's on account of error. Of course, you'll have to give up the architect profession now, won't you? But then a young man can always earn a decent living clerking or selling or something."
He turned to go.
"Oh, Mr. Roark!" she called.

....editing a bit to get to the phrase I'm writing this all for- my hands are getting tired... Mrs. Keating has changed the subject to her son, Petey.

She stood drawn up. Her stout little body was corseted so tightly under the starched folds of her cotton dress that it seemed to squeeze the fat out to her wrists and ankles.

The Fountainhead

My wife just finished reading The Fountainhead yesterday. I'm proud of her. So this morning when I was on my way out the door, I didn't feel like getting into the laptop, so I grabbed said book for a re-read.

On the train, I kept spacing out, tripping really, on Rand's phrasing and imagery. So appropriate and so rich! I was also being sucked into the character of Roark. I can't help myself, every book I read I start to emulate or want to be like the hero, even if that hero is very different from me.

I should stop reading it. I'm liable to quit my job and do what I really want to do. Now if I could only figure out what that is... Another reason to stop reading is that the wife might see how quickly I tear through books in comparison to the way she tears through them (slowly). Additionally, I may want to discuss details that she doesn't remember, which really may as well be a totally different book. Plus too, this is her achievement reading the book, I should let her have it and enjoy it. Three reasons. Now I just have to find another reading book.

Flooring

Current reading: Black & Decker's book on home flooring.
I don't have it in front of me so I can't give you the exact title, but it's a pretty good overview of what it means to put down new flooring. Never mind the fact it was printed in the late 80's, and most of the technology and materials will probably be different, but I can take a principle and run with it.

The section on hardwood flooring was only a page. This means it should be super easy.

On to more interesting things: My new business card is in. For 'position title' I put 360. Yes for a serious work card that's what I put. Lot's of fun. At least until it gets me fired, I guess.