The ostentatious use of handkerchiefs

I am reading Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale right now. It is a clever and subversive book about a Utopian society gone terribly wrong, and it centers around womans supposed fall from grace in the garden of eden. Oh sister Eve, we still suffer from your folly.

Aside from being a well-crafted, non-linear novel, it also becomes another piece of evidence in my case arguing that Scrabble is the most sensual boardgame of all time. It is the nerd equivalent of spanish-fly. On my old, old page, I wrote the following in December, 2003. You will notice the reference to Scrabble and the reference to the patterns that govern the universe.

Anyhow, once I got mad and we were trying the whole friend thing and I watched Playing Mona Lisa where one of the subplots is a couple that cannot decide to hook up, even though their relationship is rife with sexual tension, and their only outlet is Scrabble©. And I really dug that. It was cool. So when boy asked me to play Scrabble© with him at work two days later, I almost lost it.

I'm one of those people that is constantly looking for the connection, the subtext, the hidden meaning and the destiny. I am a practicing coincidist. Rather than turn the reigns over to a deity or being, I believe that fate has planted little clues and hints along the way and I can figure out the mystery before I get there if I just look hard enough.

From the book

We play two games. Larynx, I spell. Valance. Quince.Zygote. I hold the glossy counter with their smooth edges, finger the letters. The feeling is voluptuous. This is freedom, an eyeblink of it. Limp, I spell. Gorge. What a luxury. The counters are like candies, made of peppermint, cool like that.

While trying to find information about a third instance of Scrabble in pop culture, one that is on the tip of my tongue, I learned that the word for a "Utopian society gone terribly wrong" is dystopia. Makes perfect sense.

Hmmm. Finished my Grammar final tonight. I can finally see the end. Goodnight.