sloth

Yay, I finished the book I need to read for the Asian American Cinema class I TA this quarter. Perpetually Cool: The Many Lives of Anna May Wong took me for-freakin-ever to read despite the speed reading skills I developed this past quarter (8 books/course readers in 10 weeks). I think it was because it was both a biography and a somewhat of a dense lesson in Chinese/Chinese-American history and I was desperately trying to retain the bulk of that info. It was also just really interesting and I didn't feel the urge to skim and scan at any point.

So yeah, I haven't gotten out of my pajamas (and this is the third day this week, though not in a row, that I've done this). I get like this when I'm at my parent's house. Finding the motivation to do anything but surf the web, watch TV, or read is akin to moving a mountain. I don't even have an appetite for food which tends to surprise people. It's almost as though the house that I grew up in swallows me whole and I re-live all that adolescent angst and apathy. I really wish my parents would move to a different house in a different neighborhood so I don't have to deal with this every fucking time I visit. Seriously, it's getting stupid. Their incessant nagging and other forms of annoying dysfunctional communication don't help any. At least now I'm old enough to drink my dad's stash of beer. In fact right now I'm having a nice Sleeman Amber Ale which is tastier than the Honey Ale that I had before this. Hopefully this will remedy the insomnia that also plagues me during these visits home.