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"maybe it's the weather or something like that" home write to me currently reading: The Moviegoer by Walker Percy currently listening to: Under Cold Blue Stars by Josh Rouse OED Word of the Day yesterday's news: the regulars: druzblog that you new topography fuzzy sweater lot vogue que sera sera meaningless my next trick mighty girl sarah hepola distraction amusiac catwoman slatch text obscured affordable justice every little thing electric honey a girl named bob this fish complete square helenjane shampoo solo randomness wheelbarrow le petit hiboux inspiration geese aplenty the safeword urban ephemera pink and fluffy markand(erson) pineapple? the 3rd rail roxy the whit with crayons pretty teeth meet george dictionary captions further reading: open letters the morning news mcsweeney's pitchfork tomato nation me head fametracker tv without pity pindeldyboz bust onion useful info: words grammar movies music city search spanish soundtrack: le tigre sleater-kinney belle and sebastian lucinda williams white stripes bjork gillian welch elvis costello elliott smith radio radio: morning eclectic this american life national public radio wnyc
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Wednesday, June 27, 2001
I just went to deliver something to an editor. His door was closed, and there was a sign hanging on it. The sign read: "I am editting inside. Please knock and come in." Uh, someone needs a little editing himself, I think...
(And yes, I know I'm a snob.)
I have funny Polaroids from my housewarming party. Some of them I took, a good deal of them I did not. My friends are beautiful :)
(And my silver JoyCam might just be one of the best presents my mom has ever given me...)
People around me keep creating drama for themselves and then somehow trying to involve me in it. I do not want drama. My days of drama are done. Really. (At least for the time being... ;)
I feel like drama is quite often the result of boredom and depression (and I should know, being no stranger to either). It works like this: You feel like nothing is going on and this makes you depressed because you start to feel like if nothing interesting is happening in your life, then that must mean that you yourself are not interesting, which is upsetting...so then you decide to make yourself interesting, usually by creating some sort of stupid melodramatic situation just to have something to talk about. (The problem, of course, being that the thing you have created is more often than not more annoying than interesting). Well, fine, go ahead if it will make you feel better. But please please please leave me out of it. (Please?) Monday, June 25, 2001
Question: Why is the 'Books' section on Salon separate from the 'Arts and Entertainment' section? Aren't books a kind of art/entertainment? Just wondering...
The party was successful. Well, mostly. There was the whole fiasco of a high school friend I hadn't seen in six years taking the train out to Brooklyn and then trying to call for directions and my cell phone being dead and her being angry...and somehow the cover on the back of our cordless phone--the plastic piece that holds the batteries in--disappeared...but otherwise everything went fine.
TC (my roommate) accompanied me on my errand run to the grocery and liquor stores. He bought expensive cheese and crackers for the party, as he had invited some people too and wanted to make a contribution. Then Susie-q came to the grocery store with me and we lugged home heavy bags full of beer and tonic and party food. I got nervous that people weren't going to come (there's always that hour when it seems no one will show up, and then everyone arrives at once) and so started drinking vodka tonics. I was, um, in good spirits by the time the guests started coming in. Everyone brought friends and bottles of wine (I am going to have leftover wine for months), and everyone mingled. There was music and dancing and LOTS of flirting...all the ingredients for a successful party, don't you think? My evening concluded with a friend of TC's kissing me on the couch. He's a cute writer boy (too cute almost, and dressed really well--I had to ask TC if he was gay) who won my affections by telling me of his obsession with my college advisor (and role model--I want to BE her)....It was fun, and he asked for my number...except it seems he forgot to mention that he has a girlfriend...which TC found out and told me about yesterday. Perfect, really. I am beginning to think there is something about me that makes guys who are already attached seek me out as an interesting alternative... Anyway, it was a fun evening (possibly even worth the huge mess I had to clean up on Saturday), and I am excited to do it again sometime...far in the future :) Friday, June 22, 2001
So I'm having a party tonight. I don't usually host parties, so I am both nervous and excited. I have to go get booze, and I have no idea how much to buy. Too little=party suicide, but too much=beer-filled refrigerator for the rest of the year. I will not stress. I will just buy a moderate amount and then run to corner bodega if necessary. That will be my plan.. Besides, people will bring stuff.
Okay, stressy moment over. Time to be excited again :) I realized in planning this thing that I know a lot of people, which is a nice thing to realize. My high school friends and my college friends and my work friends and my roommates will all get to meet each other. It will be a pleasant collision of my worlds. (I do wish Stewy were still here--I miss you, my Chicago chickadee :) Now it's time to leave work (I heart half-day Fridays) and go run a million preparatory errands. Wanna come along? (I didn't think so....) Thursday, June 21, 2001
Sleepy Jackie needs a nap....zzzzzz.
Actually, my name is not Jackie, it's just my on-screen (online?) nickname. I like that most of the people I write about on here have nicknames (despite the fact that Jeff, who shall remain un-nicknamed, tells me it makes it seem like it's 1952). I like to think of them as characters I'm writing stories about. It seems easier to write here that way. And no, I'm not crazy...I do realize that my friends aren't characters in some zany story or anything ridiculous like that. It just seems like a good way to maintain some sort of anonymity, as well as helping motivate myself to tell my stories.
Yikes is my new favorite word. (A throwback to the days when I was obsessed with Scooby Doo, perhaps?)
Wednesday, June 20, 2001
In my dream, his teeth were falling out and everyone was laughing except for me. Somehow, I knew what this meant, watched a look of terror pass over his face before he went white. I made no sound, remained silent as he was, both of us awestruck by this sudden oddity. It should have been a cartoon moment, filled with comical violence, no blood. There should have been sound effects--pinging noises, old-time music. Instead, we shared a revelatory moment. This was not funny. Our eyes locked and we both knew, although what realization it was we had just come to remains unclear. I woke up wondering a little, but mostly I was satisfied that, if only for just that moment, we had understood each other.
This is what happens when I don't sleep enough for weeks and then suddenly sleep a long time... Tuesday, June 19, 2001
I've been playing around with how my blog looks. I like it, I think.
The more work I have, the stronger my desire to do procrastinatory things like search for Jackie O photos to use as background....
I wish I could speak Spanish better than I do. I just had to call the Cervantes Institute to find out if they had a copy of this Cuban magazine we need copyright info from in order to publish this (amazing) collection of Reinaldo Arenas stories. The woman who answered was speaking in Spanish and at first I tried to fumble my way through responses before giving up and resorting to English. She seemed, at least, to appreciate the effort. Why did I never go live in Spain or South America? Six years of classroom Spanish just doesn't cut it when it comes to actual conversation, sigh....
On a related note, the word of the day is:
syn·es·the·sia also syn·aes·the·sia (sns-thzh) n. 1. A condition in which one type of stimulation evokes the sensation of another, as when the hearing of a sound produces the visualization of a color. 2. A sensation felt in one part of the body as a result of stimulus applied to another, as in referred pain. 3. The description of one kind of sense impression by using words that normally describe another.
All I read these days is comtemporary fiction (with the occasional nonfiction proposal thrown in). So I have been reading Nabokov's Speak, Memory in my spare time. It's wonderful. I am fascinated by synesthesia...and, as always, I am obsessed with memory and the way it is written. Someday there will be school again...
Monday, June 18, 2001
I spent too much time today sending out e-vites to my housewarming party this weekend. E-vites are funny. They are perfect for people like me who are obsessive about making lists and planning things. I like that I can see who's read the invite and who hasn't, and that I can read everyone's comments. Except the e-vite needs to come with instructions--some people don't seem to understand the RSVP thing, and so just send return emails, which require me to think, whereas clicking on yes or no makes the computer do the thinking instead. I like it when the computer thinks for me, so just check the box. Please?
Frightening advertisement observation of the day:
Walking past Burger King the other day, I noticed a sign that read (in giant block letters): WHOPPERS 99¢. Underneath, in smaller letters (although still clearly readable), there was a parenthetical statement that read: Limit 5 per customer. Now, I'm thinking, that's a sad commentary about American eating habits. I mean, who honestly has to be told, "I'm sorry sir, we're going to have to cut you off at 5 Whoppers"? Ew.
I heart the Magnetic Fields. I mean, I liked them before, but then I saw them live last night and I am just in love with them. I wish I had bought tickets to both shows they were playing, instead of just one...
Friday, June 15, 2001
According to the British version of The Week, John McEnroe is writing his memoirs; he apparently wants the book to be called "Fuck You."
Ha, that's perfect. I was obsessed with tennis when I was a child (go ahead, laugh away) and I had a crush on John McEnroe...Probably some sort of predictor of my future interest in loudmouth, smartass men. I was thinking about what I would call my memoirs if I were writing them right now (which I'm not, unless you count this weblog), and I can't come up with anything clever. What do you suppose that says about me? Thursday, June 14, 2001
Lately I have been scheduling too many activities for myself. Last night was Reading It: An Evening of Literary Humor and then Shannon Wright at Brownie's.
Reading It was half funny, half ehh. Jonathan Ames's performance was hilarious, as was Sarah Vowell's (although in a much more understated, deadpan manner). Melissa Bank managed to make me almost like the story from Speaking with the Angel that I originally cringed at. I had a lovely conversation with her after, as she and I attended the same college and she is a good friend of my former writing advisor/mentor. Non-highlights included the editor and head writer for The Onion. Their site makes me laugh, but they should never ever be allowed to speak in public again. Also, Neal Pollack's jokes have already gotten old. Judging from the audience's responses, I don't think I am the only one who thinks so. The first song Shannon Wright (Or is it shannonwright? The spelling varies.) played was William's Alabama, which is my absolute favorite song by her. That made me happy, even though the song is sad. G and I were exhausted and only stayed long enough for one drink and about 7 songs. And now, tonight there is improv to be attended at Upright Citizen's Brigade. I hope I'm not too tired to laugh... Wednesday, June 13, 2001
My job today has been all about food.
This week is the tenth anniversary of one of the editors I work for. We ordered Krispy Kremes and had a breakfast party. Mmmm, Krispy Kremes...why do you have to be so bad and taste so good? And then there was slush lunch, which was actually fun. And involved lots more food. (This place seems to operate under the logic that if you want people to get annoying tasks done, you should offer them free food...it seems to be working). I am sending books to a prisoner who wrote a very touching letter about how he is trying to educate himself and is finding there to be a lack of good literature available to him. Is that crazy of me? I mean, at least the guy is trying to learn something. And his letter was more grammatically correct than about half of our unsolicited manuscript submissions. Now I just hope they actually get to him... Tuesday, June 12, 2001
The other day, someone called for my roommate when he was not home. When I asked if I could take a message, the man on the other end of the phone said, "Sure, tell him Dave called." So I wrote down, "Dave called" on the notepad next to the telephone.
Then, last night, in a conversation about books, Infinite Jest (which I still haven't read), came up. My roommate said, "Speaking of which, I have to return that phone call." When I gave him a puzzled look, he was like, "Dave called the other night and I haven't had a chance to call him back." Turns out Dave is David Foster Wallace. They're friends. Huh.
Today's word is:
per·spi·ca·cious (pûr sp -k sh s) adj. Having or showing penetrating mental discernment; clear-sighted. Syn: Keen; critical; subtle; artful; astute; sagacious; discerning; acute; penetrating. Okay, class, now use it in a sentence. (And if your sentence is funny, send it to me).
I subscribe to dictionary.com's 'Word of the day' list. Go ahead, call me a dork if you want to. But I like words. So maybe every once in a while, I will post a good word here (probably not every day though, I'm bad with commitment). In the meantime, if you like words too, you should subscribe.
Monday, June 11, 2001
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the Chan Marshall show. Tense is the word I think I would use. The woman has this powerful, haunting voice...and this utterly debilitating stage fright. I wonder if it might have been different had there been others onstage with her (if she were performing as Cat Power rather than Chan Marshall) to help carry her through. As it was, I think she only actually made it through about three songs in their entirety. Mostly she just started things, then trailed off, sometimes sitting down on the stage and whispering things like "Sorry, sorry, I'm blundering, apologize" or just simply "Help."
Afterward, people were discussing whether it was simply her schtick (she has been known to run offstage in tears, pull her long bangs over her face, or, as was the case for this show, go on over an hour late) or whether she was just trashed (she did wander onstage with a 40 in a paper bag). I suppose either of those things could be true. But it did not occur to me that it might be an act when she was up there. While she was onstage, I simply wanted to help her through somehow. M even went so far as to ask the photographer sitting next to us in the front row if she would put her camera away, as it was obvious that every time Chan looked over to see it aimed at her, her discomfort increased. The photographer, rather irritated with us, insisted it was okay, even though it quite clearly was not. And so, the entire experience was quite painful, but also breathtakingly beautiful at points.
The Anniversary Party is not a great film. It was basically like Jennifer Jason Leigh and Alan Cumming were sitting around, and said, "Hey, I've got this great idea! Let's invite all of our famous friends over. And we'll pretend like it's this anniversary party...and we'll film it. And occasionally, we'll catch this really great moment, because our friends are talented. But overall it will be pretty boring. We'll need something to liven it up....Hmmm...I know! We'll make everyone take Ecstasy! Yeah! That'll make it interesting..." Parts of it were entertaining, but overall. it lacked something. Like depth maybe.
This is what was posted on Salon about the party I went to last Thursday:
"Sex in the City You'd have expected things to get a little randy at Nerve.com's 4th-anniversary bash in New York the other night. After all, it is a sex site. But who would have predicted the fellow who made his appearance wearing nothing but a black sock (not on his foot) with a flashing bicycle light or the onstage antics that might have made Monica Lewinsky blush? Possibly not Moby, who was in attendance, or other celebrity guests including Bret Easton Ellis, the Smashing Pumpkins' Billy Corgan, former Hole/Smashing Pumpkins bassist Melissa auf der Maur and Dean Winters of HBO's 'Oz.' As things onstage got increasingly raunchy, 'the Nerve editors were really egging everyone on,' says one attendee who says she's 'still recovering from the visual shock.' And thanks to HBO, which was there filming the whole thing, you may soon be too." I fear ending up in an HBO special...but mostly, I want to know how it was that I managed to miss all the celebrities...huh. Friday, June 08, 2001
So not able to be productive....my head is a little fuzzy.
The party last night was so much fun, even if the lighting was far too bright. Sour and I looked like Mary Anne and Ginger from Gilligan's Island, we realized as we were leaving--her in a plaid halter top and pigtails, me in a black fringe-y dress and a silvery-black shawl draped across my shoulders (I was joking about going for the Stevie Nicks effect). It was fun to get all dressed up. I even wore heels, like real ones, not platform-y things, which is something you almost never see. The first person we saw upon walking in the door was a man who was completely naked but for a black sock taped over his penis. Sour and I were like, 'So that's what this party is going to be like." But then really, it turned out to be relatively tame. Sure, there were scantily clad bartenders and hair product promoters wandering around in shirts that said "we give good head." And yes, some of the couples in the confessional booth (a la the Real World) got a little crazy...well, I guess it wasn't that tame. But no one was skeazy (with the exception of that old VH1 guy who kept asking me if I wanted to do some coke) and there were lots of smart, beautiful people. And the best part was that I was not intimidated at all. I usually turn into shy-girl at parties, but I was talking to everyone last night. And kissing people. I kissed four boys, I think. I'm pretty sure half the party was on Ecstasy (although Sour and I were not), which was probably the reason for all the kissing. Well, that and all the blown-up erotic photographs hanging on the walls for inspiration. Okay, maybe it was that kind of party, but it wasn't gross or icky, just lots of people having a good time. You all should check out Nerve. So then Sour and I shared a cab home, and the driver was laughing at our giggly chatter. Then there was home and a blissful collapse into bed...but for too short a time! Thankfully, today is a half-day. And there is a Cat Power show to be attended tonight. I am a content (if exhausted) little chickadee. Thursday, June 07, 2001
This entry used to contain the last line read of the aforementioned manuscript before finally putting it away and moving on to something else, but then I realized that might be illegal or something, so now there is this filler instead. If you saw the other, forget you ever saw it :)
I have been reading this manuscript that I am not sure what to do with. It's totally experimental, and the guy who wrote it is obviously very smart. And certain parts are laugh-out-loud funny. But overall, I just think it might be too much. Sort of how I felt about House of Leaves (although that was not nearly so funny). Hmmmm....
I just came from lunch outside in the sunshine. I could have stayed there all day, it's so beautiful. There was a man playing flute to pre-recorded reggae. Usually, I find that kind of thing irritating, but for some reason today it was fine. It seemed to put everyone who was sitting on the steps with me in a good mood. Even the trash man was dancing with his garbage can on wheels, which made me laugh.
Wednesday, June 06, 2001
I went to see Moulin Rouge last night. At the Ziegfeld, which was the perfect theatre to have seen it in, with its lavish curtain and ornate decor. I've never been there before, but I think I'll make a point to go in the future. I like watching films made by people you can tell just really love movies...
My allergy medicine has the effect of making me a little, um, jittery. Maybe taking it with my morning cup of coffee is not the best idea (she types with shaky fingers)....
Monday, June 04, 2001
The weekend was lovely, with the exception of being caught in a torrential downpour Friday night. Moving went nearly flawlessly (hiring movers=best $300 ever spent)...well, besides the forgotten Ikea shelves (still in packaging, as never got around to installing in previous apartment) that I later had to schlep back to the new place from Manhattan.
Saw Bridget Jones's Diary in theatre for the second time (only slighty embarrassed by this fact), and am now reading the book. Highly entertaining train reading. I had brunch with M yesterday in my new neighborhood, then went back to my old place to collect the few small things I had forgotten. I will not miss living in Williamsburg. How did I never notice how filthy it was? I am in love with my new place...I have a feeling I will be spending a lot more time at home these days (especially since there is a DVD player in our living room :)
I have fun new hair. Yay! And I didn't even have to pay to have it cut. Lately I have been having friends cut and/or dye my hair and it has turned out pretty well. Why bother with over-priced, snooty salons when one can have haircuts over pizza and chocolate doughnuts at Susie-q's? :)
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