it is written

The problem with this blogging thing is that it comes and goes; there are days where simply everything yaps at me to be posted, and others where I instead agree with that ever-nagging voice in my head---what's it worth, anyway? who are you to blog? no one reads this, E. shut up---and lose myself to books and arting for a while. Obviously I gave myself over to the latter these past two weeks, though while I did get quite a lot of good reading and several projects in that isn't to say I completely forgot about this little corner of the internet. I took notes, even. I mean, if I had been up to the blogging, I might have said something about:

VALENTINE'S DAY ::: I love love. Annoyed with the Singles' Awareness Day blather. As the Lovely Liv said, It's about love, any love! And I will celebrate the man with the magnifying glass.

FELICITY ::: Once you get past the late 90s flair, this TV show is a fast favorite. The fact that Liv loves Ben and I heart Noel is just a wonderfully telling bonus.

SORELLA STEVENS ::: Un'amica del cuore, a Milano.

SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE ::: I finally have an answer to that pesky what's your favorite movie question. Love is new all over again.

All of which might have been worthwhile and perhaps interesting, but the emotion has passed and you are now stuck with this:

Last week I discovered How to Analyze Your Handwriting in between my search for more important, required reading. It is a lovely little volume full of in-depth thoughts on the letter forms of such greats as Franklin, Mendelssohn, Churchill and Samuel Johnson, and concludes with a ten-page test for your own calligraphy. Apparently you can tell all sorts of personality from the way you link your As and Os, from the slant of a T or the loop of a Y; pride, sensitivity, spontaneity, logic all revealed in a sentence or two.

Anyway, apparently (according to a Mr. Manfred Lowengard) I am all sorts of normal. A good 45 questions drilling my habits from margins to i-dots, and nearly half my results were something along the lines of "This is normal" or "This is normal and means little on its own" while I passed far more exciting options like "This shows balance and lack of pretention, a desire to stick to essentials" or "A sure sign of neurosis: an obsessive love of order and self-control." I mean, I guess it's kind of comforting, in it's own odd way (Hey, normal! That's good, right?), but quite a lot of me is a little disappointed. This was supposed to be the answer! This was supposed to fix it all, to make me make sense! After the Color Code, that is.

And . . . there you go. Another completely pointless post from me. Huzzah.