details of a sunset

[theladyrose]

Every separate day in the year is a gift presented to only one man-the happiest one; all other people use his day, to enjoy the sunshine or berate the rain, never knowing, however, to whom that day really belongs; and its fortunate owner is pleased and amused by their ignorance. A person cannot foreknow which day exactly will fall to his lot, what trifle he will remember forever: the ripple of reflected sunlight on a wall bordering water or the revolving fall of a maple leaf; and it often happens that he recognizes his day only in retrospection, long after he has plucked, and crumpled, and chucked under his desk the calendar leaf with the forgotten figure.

-Vladimir Nabokov, "The Potato Elf"

(I am on a Nabokov reading frenzy, although I ought to get ahead in my journalism assignments as I'll be busy this weekend going up to New York for my cousin Jason's wedding. Naturally, the personalized gift that I got him has the wrong wedding date written on it...)

It's unimaginably fun to have conversations about life while walking to Trader Joe's along the Charles River. I seriously can't picture having to leave all of these wonderful people-luckily, I will have a photo of Mekkhi, Danielle, and me all trying to carry our collective shopping basket to the checkout line. Only seven more weeks, and I'm afraid that I'll miss something important.

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

And you got me cereal! Yay! I'm so excited!!! (And I'm so not pulling an all-nighter 6 days into class...)
-who else?

[theladyrose.livejournal.com]

Sigh. You're (were?) still awake? Go to bed! I can get you more ceral later if you don't stay up too late again doing physics labs.

[horosha.livejournal.com]

Nabokov can suck my nuts.

Sorry, I just think it's funny to say.

[theladyrose.livejournal.com]

You have committed gnostic turpitude!