what is the word

It's pretty romantic the way the snow is hurling itself around sideways outside. I got up to go to lunch & my co-worker freaked out. "Bundle up first!" he said, standing up for some reason. "Make sure you take an umbrella & stay warm!" I hate it when people freak out about the weather. As if the weather were going to stop me from doing anything.
In fact I didn't go to lunch at all; I took the Q one stop to the Strand. It was perhaps the first time I found even one of the things I was even vaguely looking for at the Strand. I went in with the definite intention of finding Black Lamb & Grey Falcon, but I was already resigned to not finding it because I didn't know if it should be classified as novel, travel memoir, non-fiction or history. If Geoff Dyer doesn't know, how the hell should I or, more precisely, the employees of the Strand be expected to know?
After I gave up on BL&GF I tried to find something by Ryu Murakami. There were about a thousand things by Haruki but not a single title from Ryu. Then I thought I might read Orlando, but the three copies under Woolf had the promotional cover from the movie, which I can't stand in books. It's needlessly snobbish but the whole idea of it seems wrong & I refuse even to be seen with one of those. All in all the experience was typically Strandy, till suddenly I spied a normal, non-Tilda-Swinton-covered copy of Orlando on one of those rolling shelves. Those rolling shelves are practically the only bastions of reason & decency at the Strand, thank God for them.
I don't know why I'm telling you this, or why I am blogging at all. Frankly I am rebelling against the sudden paralysis that struck me after a literary agent emailed me about my blog. That just about floored me. I could hardly write a word after that.
So, in rebellion then, I'll write a line or two more. Blogs are very silly, aren't they? Last nite Anise & I watched Before Sunset, which somehow managed to win best picture of 2004 from the Village Voice. Anise & I were categorically unfloored, tho I must say we were entertained. At one point they were walking along in the Bois de Boulogne or somewhere terribly romantic & wooded like that & Ethan Hawke was going on & on about his writing & his book & Anise said, "Aren't you just waiting for him to mention his fucking blog? Isn't he just the type? Like, & then I started blogging & it changed everything!"
I think we laughed for about a million years after that.
To conclude, the best things about the movie were: Julie Delpy, Julie Delpy's black lace-trimmed top, & Julie Delpy's Nina Simone impression. The end.