Hrmph. Perhaps that explains why I have enough hips for two people. I suppose that means you got the boobs I was shortchanged on? And the hair is blonde...a really weird streaky blonde, with everything from dark ashy bits to warm honey bits to platinum chunks at the temples that looked like bleached highlights...and even a tiny sprinkling of black and bright red strands for extra weirdness. The bone structure and buildl are definitely from the Indian side, I look like a bleached-out version of all the women on that side

And yes, I really don't remember the last time a first-person narrative just felt as stunningly real and alive to me as Smilla's Sense of Snow. The only thing that's come close for me was An Instance at the Fingerpost, which is rather impressive as it's got four different, distinct, and unreliable narrators. But fabulous as that was, it didn't really hit me where I live the way Smilla does. I have a huge text file of quotes, if you're interested I can throw a smattering on my journal along with the next music dump...

(BORING? Boring, you say, to the girl with a huge collection of Celtic folk music and a downright fetish for Black Irish looks? Bah! I guess the grass really is always greener!)