just fine

it's weird how little seems to be going on and how satisfied with things i am. funny. i've been reading angela carter and enjoying her 10-cent words (i especially like "subfusc") and her paragraph set pieces. now i'm reading the 1st highsmith ripley book (the talented mr ripley) and kara's reading the 2nd (ripley under ground). i was perhaps inordinately impressed with the first 3 sentences of talented:

Tom glanced behind him and saw the man coming out of the Green Cage, heading his way. Tom walked faster. There was no doubt the man was after him.

my heart immediately started beating faster and i'm hooked. but i'm not doing any writing, though i'm collecting names for characters and thinking of doing nanowrimo this november. i'd like to write 2 or 3 stories before november, and perhaps expand one of them for that 50,000-word marathon. i'm not really exercising; in fact my right arm has been feeling rather strange the last several days, as if the connective tissue in there is atrophic. kara & i bought a memory foam plush mattress pillow a week ago or so and since putting it on the bed i've had neck pains and now this arm pain. we've since taken it off the bed, but kara liked it a lot, so maybe we'll cut it in half and let her use it. or something. my arm's getting better, i think, but it's still feeling a little odd. and we're planning on boycotting the upcoming olympics, because, you know, china, but that's not stopping us from admiring dara torres's 41-year old swimmer's body. abs abs abs.

kara and the dogs just got back from the dog park. i've got to find something for us for dinner now.