Summer Hotel Retreat Day 8

In my head today, reading about narrative time, and not finding it as interesting as I'd hoped and also thinking about with the popularity of "new technologies" there needs to be new theories of narrative time, ones which address the subversion of closure of say blog-based narratives, and I'm sure there are plenty of such theories already and I'm showing my ignorance here.  It struck me how even something as straightforward as the buddhist works against conventional notions of narrative time in that the narrator does not know the ending ahead of time.  The ending was not a planned ending but revealed as the narrator-writer went through the process of living/writing the material.  It was not a neatly plotted looking back, and events do not follow one another with a sense of causal inevitability.

I'm very much in my head today.  As I mentioned at the beginning of the Summer Hotel Retreat, I'm working on another writing project.  I do that first thing in the morning, so my days are framed by writing, and that's basically all I want to do.  The outside world doesn't feel very real (except as a palette for details) when you're in writing mode.  Hi, you're a person, I will engage with you because that's what people do with one another, and I am programmed to do that.  But I come alive when alone and writing.

The picture is of the black whisper-thin wool pullover I got this evening, on clearance at Nordstrom Rack.  Antioch is so cold, and I couldn't bear another day of shivering.  I don't know why I forgot that and didn't pack something cozy to wear at school.  The sweater has raglan sleeves.  According to Wikipedia, "A raglan sleeve is a type of sleeve whose distinguishing characteristic is to extend in one piece fully to the collar, leaving a diagonal seam from underarm to collarbone."  I include the definition because I'm used to Kevin whose vocabulary for women's clothing is surprisingly paltry.   Those buttons there don't button, they just dot the left distinguishing diagonal seam, and there's a bit of shirring that also comes off of that seam.  For this sweater it's all about that seam.

Been thinking how every time I didn't get what I wanted when I was young, it turned out to be a blessing.  I guess that means that loss and suffering can be a blessing even if they don't make you a better person.  They may simply be about propelling you into other situations.  Don't want to say better situation or to get into anything like destiny here because that would bring us back so some kind of inevitable narrative closure.  Fuck that.