While the words rolled smoothly from brain to fingers to screen in Bermuda they have dried up here and left me groping a little for interesting things to say. Nothing has caught my attention. The converations feel like variations on a theme. The new people are drunkards. You can only watch reruns of The Simpsons that many hours a day.

Worst of all, I have nothing to read; the library here is Elysian...if you happen to enjoy reading about the physiology of echinodermata. In desperation I have purchased a number of books from Amazon.com but of course I have to wait for shipping and all that. The last volume of significance I managed to (half-) work through was The Least of These My Brethren, a 'Reader's Digest'-esque volume written by a philanthropic doctor who works with inner-city Aids patients, informative but not very satisfying (pulled off Han's shelf to keep myself occupied late Monday night). I should have had the sense not to ship all of my books home - at least then I could be amusing myself with a Vonnegut or something - but no, the only four books on my shelf now are:

* Marine Invertebrate Zoology, by Ruppert, Fox and Barnes
* Developmental Cognitive Neuroscience, by Johnson
* The Concise Oxford Dictionary and
* The Bible