I was looking at Ben Day dots the other day and came across an interesting photo of LED lights.
Distracted, I looked at other images of interesting LED architecture. They gave me quite an excuse to avoid writing my style project for my Jane Austen class.
Speaking of Jane Austen, my roommate and I had the following conversation Monday, when I was trying to finish my project.
"Sooooo," Eva began, drawing out the word as she reclined on the futon. "I know you really like Jane Austen."
"Shut up, Eva," I said flatly. My back faced her, for I was at my computer desk, my usual position. I flipped through the Austen tome a friend had bought me years back as a fake Christmas present.
"What is that?" Eva asked.
I turned. "This?" I held up the 1000-plus-page anthology. Eva nodded. "It's my Austen book," I said. "Every single frickin' novel."
Eva giggled. "Ooooh, I bet you love that. The more Austen, the merrier."
"Shut up, Eva," I said, turning back to my computer screen, where I was attempting to write my own Austenian-inspired prose.
"You know what, Dawn? When you graduate, I am going to mail you some Austen, because I know you love her so much. I know you'll want to hear from me, and that someday, you'll just feel like some Jane Austen. Like, 'Wow, you know what I haven't read in awhile? Jane Austen! I think I'm in the mood for some eighteenth-century prose. I am so glad Eva mailed this to me."
"I will send you a pipe bomb."
Eva exploded in laughter as I grinned.
Oh, Austen; I do not wish to find pleasure in her company. It saves me the trouble of liking her.