The corridor behind my apartment is no stranger to late-night drama, but last night's was pretty classic, even if it woke me up. First, a severely inebriated girl about 2 a.m., hollering into what must have been a bad cell phone connection:
"Horrible! Horrible! Not adorable -- you're goddamn fucking horrible!"
Shortly after, a couple noisily broke up in the same alley. Note to the dude -- you sound like a duck when you get agitated.
* * *
Not that I'm sounding much better, I'm afraid. I'm coping with a head cold of magnificent proportions. It seems like I've been sick for about the last two months of 2010, and it seems like I've been sick for more than half of the last few New Year's Eves. We'll see if I wake up hale and hearty tomorrow, but today was bad enough that I was ordered home from work, and even Bowl Noodle Soup isn't stopping the phlegm parade.
So one last book for 2010 -- with my head the way it is, I can't imagine I'll finish anything tomorrow:
#60 -- "The Code Book" by Simon Singh
I've wanted this for a long while now -- long enough, perhaps, that I suspect the material on modern-day cryptography is far out of date. No real matter to me as getting into all the tech of that made my mucus-filled head spin. The fun stuff with me was all the old-style codebreaking, the see-saw of tougher codes versus tougher cracks. The translations of dead languages were pretty thrilling. I wish I'd read this alongside Neal Stephenson's "Cryptonomicon" -- if I didn't have so many other unread books, I might do that next. Ah well.