Not much to report

I’ve been remiss in my bloggerings, haven’t I? Perdón. But, really, there’s not much to report.

I’m on the verge of finishing a book, so that’s exciting. I don’t remember the last time I finished a book… That’s a blatant lie. I finished A Good Man is Hard to Find, a compilation of short stories by Flannery O’Connor, within the past six months. That’s a fantastic compilation. Short stories are good for people of short attention spans. I’ve been spending my time on the metro/bus reading La aventura de Miguel Littín clandestino en Chile. It’s a book by Gabriel García Márquez about Miguel Littín (a real bloke) who was exiled from Chile and returned incognito to film a documentary about the realities of Pinochet’s dictatorship in Chile. It all takes place in Santiago, and I often find myself on the very same streets that Márquez is writing about. Anyways—I’m just about to finish, and just in time to hand off the book to a friend as a birthday gift. Perfect.

I plan to move closer to my work in one month. (Hooray!) Although it’s quite enjoyable to spend two (sometimes four) hours reading every day, um, it’s incredibly impractical. I saw an apartment this weekend and it seems too good to be true—but, the thing is, it is true. A friend of a friend lived in this apartment for two years, and he’s moving out in a month. (The best part is definitely the pool on the roof. I can’t live without certain necessities. Oh! And equally necessary—there is a sushi restaurant in the same building.) Perfect.

Hm. What else? Día feriado on Thursday! No work! No class! I have no idea why! But nobody works, which works for me. (Día feriado=day at the hot springs in the mountains.) Perfect.

C’est tout.

I can’t wait to move. Can’t wait. Can’t wait. Can’t wait.