The Day Before Monday

The forum went okay, I suppose. I spoke for 15 minutes, summerising most of what I'd learned over the past two days, and a decent discussion followed - most of it not about what i'd said.

I don't like speaking about things I don't understand in detail. Give me six months to read about and around a subject and I'll be fine, but to spend two days essentially rearranging the paragraphs of someone else's summary of several years work - that feels dishonest.
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I've been reading the archive of eXile, an "alternative newspaper" based in Moscow. It's the kind of posily cynical, not-as-leftwing-as-it-thinks-it-is publication that young intellectual nihilists like to read.

But is is anti-humbug, and that always appeals to me. Sometimes it's better to reject a bad idea than to accept a good one. I'm ploughing through the book reviews.
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H isn't getting back to me. He may just be busy - and he usually is snowed under with work - which is fine. Or he might be roughing it without email on one of his holidays touring far flung parts of the world - and that's fine too. Or he might just not want me around - and I suppose in a different way that's fine as well.

I don't mind too much if a friend doesn't want to be a friend anymore. I'd just rather he told me. Whatever happens, I'll be alright.