Went to another (my second) "Silent Reading" events at the Sorrento Hotel last night. Not quite as silent as before, and I was guilty of some of that talking. I sat on a bar stool, and then a couple sat to my right. The woman didn't realize that she was supposed to bring a book, and I had two, so I offered her "David Copperfield." I had brought it to read myself, but during the day had received noticed of a library hold arriving, so had that one as well (plus an acting book in my bag, which I eventually ended up reading; a section on preparing Shakespeare material.) She was flipping through so fast, it made me anxious that I had bad taste, and though I try to talk myself out of worrying what other people think of me, or if they are not enjoying themselves, because it really is none of my business, I do still worry, and consequently, couldn't focus on the library book.
Anyway, my talking involved mentioning that it was somewhat autobiographical, and she mentioned it was kinda' depressing, things kept going bad for David (they do.) It's funny, I don't think of this one as being a particularly depressing book. He has a lot of people on his side, that bring brightness to his (pretty grim) life. She managed to skim through to the point where he finds Betsey, which really is where his life starts looking up. At one point, I also mentioned that Dickens was concerned about child labor practices, exposing that in his novels. Also mentioned his complicated relationship with his mother, why Clara in the book is ineffectual as a mother and protector of David.
I managed to pour a drink on myself, and tried to calmly wipe it up (mostly it was all over my hand and arm, and the counter), not really sure how I spilled it, I missed my mouth or something...was not drunk, just clumsy. Fell asleep on the bus home, had only gotten four hours of sleep the night before. Thankfully woke up for my stop, as this bus terminates no where near my house. Went home fell asleep immediately. Spilled my lunch on the floor at work, and then smacked my forehead on the bookshelf when I bent down to pick it up, have I mentioned having really bad peripheral awareness? I hope that's my three clumsy things for the time being. I have read a bit further, but not written about it yet. David goes to Canterbury to check on the house, at the request of this aunt, and stops in to visit Agnes. More to follow.
Nope. More clumsy follows.
