My pretties

It's been a few weeks. I just have very little to report.
The post frequency on this blog is proportional to the amount of changes in my life. Lately there have not been many new things. I've mentioned new friends, but that has not brought about changes in me. Usually I am quick to adopt characteristics of the people I am with, but that has not happened to the same degree in this scenario. That may be because I already had very much in common with them, or maybe I've grown up a little and don't care so much about fitting in. Either way, it's a new experience.

Christmas has come and gone. I was not so grumpy this year as I have been other years. My brother and his wife visited from BC for the week before the 25th and it was good to be near them again. When I was a child, my brother was the worst thing in my life. He made me cry every single day and pestered me mercilessly. Then, once I hit high school, something changed between us. We started getting along and actually enjoying being around each other. We could hang out and talk about things. We've been good buddies ever since and having him back in town was lovely.

For the past 3 days I've just been sleeping and computering and smoking. Mostly sleeping. Tomorrow I'm going with my sister and parents to Niagara to see the butterfly conservatory and hang about near the falls. Then, in the evening, UFC 141!!! Buahahaha! I love watching huge guys beat the poop out of each other! I am a Lesner fan, personally, but it's gonna be a high-intensity fight. Woooooo!

I'm currently reading Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, which is (according to reputable sources) one of the beset books ever written. I'm dreading its conclusion. I've read the first 30 chapters (120 pages) and I like the main character, but she's doomed. It's gonna be like Madame Bovary, but with a really nice person getting messed up in the whole thing. Do you know what the downfall is going to be of the heroine? It's the fatal love of receiving admiration. She (Anna) is a good wife, a loving mother, a good and sensible woman. Then one bastardly charmer comes along and falls for her and she does the exact same thing that I would: she falls in love with her power over him and his love for her and falls from grace. It's like the tragedy of Macbeth with less ghosts and whining and more pretty dresses. I am dreading it. These Russian authors have an annoying tendency to write about real humans and the way they work, and I have no choice but to see my own faults in their writing. It's obnoxiously convicting and invigorating.

Enough of the literature nerd. I am off to smoke and read some Sherlock and possibly watch a film.

Oooh, also, I went to see the new Sherlock Holmes with my dear friend last night. It was on the mediocre side of entertaining, but it had Stephen Fry in it and Sherlock has the same pipe as me so I think it was worth the watching.