All Happy Families are Alike

I have finally settled in to my new apartment in Columbus, Ohio and I am ready to resume my favorite activities. Of course, loyal reader, you need no reminders, but for the uninitiated, those activities are: complaining, pretending to be clever, and occasionally reaching for an epiphany or two. In a word, writing. My apologies for the lapse in the entries recently. "Dear gentles, we shall make amends..."

My job search has turned up promising leads and interviews, though I wish it were already over and done with. It's been like a romance with no hope of a goodnight kiss. Forget dinner, where me and my date would both sit and try to be interested; instead it's been the interview, where my interviewer tries to be interested and I try to be interesting. Bleh. If this is the infatuation period, I don't know if I can handle the later years of employment.

I finished Anna Karenina a couple of weeks ago, after a long and (to my thinking) valiant effort. Absolutely worth it, although Tolstoy is definitely writing his most insightful and character-driven drama around the middle 200 pages, and not the end. It's said that he feel in love with his heroine while writing the work. Some might poo-poo such affection, or think that it's a very round-about means of self-love. I tend to find it sweet, and evidence that a good writer can depart from his/her own sensibilities while inventing the lives of his/her characters. Here's to you, Leo.

That's all for today, though there's much to be written, given my vacation. With that in mind, as my friend Paul Bennett used to say, "Write on."