Jordan and I braved the patio last night, despite the fact that the restaurant staff had already stacked the chairs and folded the tables, thinking the cold night would keep everybody inside. I say it’s way too early to give up on summer, even if it means shivering underneath a hoodie while drinking beers and Caesars.
We’re gearing up for our trip, trying to find a bed and breakfast on the Ocean. It’s our first real trip together, aside from a road trip here and there, always within Ontario’s border, or on the rare occasion (well, just once) to the States (Cleveland). Part of me wishes we were road trippin’ it there and back, rather than flying in and out of Halifax, however that would require taking more time off from work, and neither one of us is willing to do that. Plus, aside from renting a car to explore some smaller towns on the outskirts, I think we’re both looking forward to a few days of relaxation in Halifax, where we can actually visit some museums, take some tours, catch up on some reading, and enjoy hotel living.
Speaking of reading, I’ve been reading more than ever lately. Most recently, I finally read Heather O’Neill’s Lullabies for Little Criminals because I need a quick fiction break between all the non-fiction I’ve been reading. I should have a review up of Branding Miss G__ on rabble shortly. It’s been in the making for much of the summer, but kept getting delayed as other things crept my way. I just finished Jessica Valenti’s Full Frontal Feminism. Full of crude language and relatively light on the feminist theory, I really enjoyed it and would definitely recommend it. For anyone who thinks sexism does not exist any more, I’d love you to read this one. Not only because it’s full of great information, but also because you can take note of the way people stare at the cover of your book while you read it, or how you receive comments from asshole cab drivers like, “I hope you don’t keep that on your desk at work,” implying that I should keep it hidden from employers. (Note: This was after he ranted about how wonderful Palin’s speech was and how McCain will bring positive change.)
That brings me to another point. Sarah Palin terrifies me. And not in the good horror movie kind of way, but in the George W. Bush kind of way. I’ve moved on to reading Barack Obama’s book right now, and I’m completely stricken at what a brilliant writer he is (unless he had a remarkable editor).
Here's some political fun for the end of a Thursday work day:
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