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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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Tuesday, July 31, 2001
I have had to bite my tongue several times today. I teeter on the verge of commenting or warning, and then I decide it is really, most definitely not my place. I mean, you have to let people learn for themselves, right?
Monday, July 30, 2001
So Elusive Boy (who is only so nicknamed b/c he is terrible about returning phone calls/emails, but who really needs a better nickname) told me that this morning, on his way to work, he and his girlfriend rescued a stray kitty from the parking lot across the street from his building. EB already has two kitties of his own, so they were asking the vet about people who might be interested in adopting the one they found, and they were given a card that read "Cat Lady." It listed a phone number and a web address.
Check it out, it's almost like kitty personals. I can just imagine it being taken one step further: Shy 9 year old, clean, all shots. Interests include licking herself and batting at string. A bit skittish as a result of recent abandonment. Seeks owner who will put up with her 'fraidy-cat' behavior. Older man preferred. And some of the names...Ruthie Toothie? Queen Fatima? Wo. Friday, July 27, 2001
It's funny, Susie-q and I saw Ghost World last weekend, and neither one of us loved it. I mean, I didn't dislike it at all, and I (of course) thought Steve Buscemi was amazing...and it had that comic book look...and the music was good. But I don't know, I found it really slow and there were parts where it felt like it was trying too hard (cue overly dramatic music as she waits at bus stop, for instance). I left sort of shrugging my shoulders about it, and I said likewise on the survey they asked us to fill out after it was over. The rest of the audience seemed to agree. But then I read these reviews, and now I wonder if I missed something. Hmmmm....
Thursday, July 26, 2001
It all started with a conversation in which Susie-q said she'd never seen a porn movie. So a bunch of us girls decided we would get together and have, uh, a viewing. Conclusion: most porn is mostly boring, partly funny, and more, um, instructive than erotic. Today, I came across this article in my daily Salon perusal, and sent it along to the Ladies' Night crew. Yes, this has now become a semi-regular affair, the girls getting together to do things not necessarily expected of a group of female friends. Next week it's food and drinks at a kitschy S&M theme restaurant downtown. Sounds like good times, no?
Wednesday, July 25, 2001
I got an email from my mother today and it occurs to me that maybe she should have done more with writing. She has this great way of telling stories, and she always manages to have great opening lines. Today it was, "I was one of the lucky ones to hear the meteor enter the atmosphere." Would it be wrong to steal lines from my mother? Or is it sort of my birthright? :)
It is strange to think about my parents as being my age and making the decisions they did. I was nearly two years old by the time my mother was the age I am now....Weird.
I love office supplies. I have since I was a kid--back when they were school supplies instead. Is it strange that I get excited about trying out new pens? Or that a really good paper store (my favorite is a British chain called Paperchase) makes me giddy? Yeah, I thought so...but I don't care. My new favorite pen is the Pilot G2. It combines my three favorite qualities in a pen--sleekness (I like things that don't need to be aerodynamic to look that way anyway), smooth writing (courtesy of the 'gel roller'), and the ability to make that clicky noise that so satisfies my nervous energy and so irritates my coworkers. Pilot, you have never failed me :)
Ugh, why is it so goddamn hot outside?! It makes it next to impossible to sleep, which makes me cranky and unproductive. And now I have to go to the bank and go get lunch and really all I want to do is stay here in the sub-arctic AC and rejoice in the fact that I'm so cold I have to wear a sweater.
Monday, July 23, 2001
Mmmm, yesterday consisted of the latest in the series of NYC-area beach visits that my friends and I have made our summer mission. This time it was Robert Moses State Park. Despite a train breakdown, a missed connection resulting in a standing-room-only bus trip, and traffic that more than doubled the bus' driving time, we managed to have a good day. Sour and Sus and I all took turns bodysurfing (which is pretty impressive for me, considering I am petrified of the water), and then lounging in the sunshine. Yes, french fries were the most substantial food consumed all day and yes, both Sour and I did somehow manage to get hit with misfired softballs belonging to members of the seven-and-under set, but it's all part of the beach charm, right? Besides, it's all worth it to come home smelling like Coppertone and sea salt....mmmmmmm.....
Friday, July 20, 2001
There have been weird dreams again lately, airplane dreams mostly, but also the kind where people are familiar but you wake up not knowing who they were or if you really knew them or whether they were who you thought they might be. Strange....although I guess it's good that I am having so many dreams, because it means I'm sleeping :)
Mmmm, the Beta Band makes me happy. In a day filled with the faxing of permissions requests and the compilation of a table of contents, it is important to have a good soundtrack working in your favor :)
Thursday, July 19, 2001
I have been listening to a lot of Prince lately, tee-hee. Susie-q and I were dancing around to it making dinner the other night and now 'Little Red Corvette' is on semi-permanent repeat in my head :) It's so funny to listen to the words now and remember singing along with it when I was seven, having no idea what the words meant. When you think about it, Prince is pretty amazing. He's this short, weird-looking guy with a squeaky voice who managed to turn himself into a huge sex symbol. And he's one of the few 80s pop singers who lasted....Impressive, no?
So my date was fun. I drank sangria. We lounged. He's funny and sweet and we agreed to go out again...But he reminds me a little too much of a particular past boy, which makes me hesitate. Of course, just about anything makes me hesitate these days. I'm still a little bit in recovery mode (though headed toward the tail end, I think). Besides, it's good to be picky, right?
I do, however, think that my attitude about guys and dating has dramatically improved as of late. I let myself be in an unhealthy situation for so long that I forgot how much fun dating/being interested in people can be. And so that's my most recent realization (not so profound, I know, but hey, you take what you can get sometimes :) Wednesday, July 18, 2001
I have a date tonight. I am wearing bright red pants, which I thought would be fun date attire. We are going to a bar that (unbeknownst to me when I chose it) was just named Best Date Bar by Time Out New York. I hope it's not crowded and filled with people who take TONY way too seriously...
One of the editors I work for is away on vacation this week, and so I am trying to do all the things he was supposed to have done before he left. It is taking up a lot of time and preventing me from doing some of my own stuff. Hence, the infrequent and insubstantial entries here.
Tuesday, July 17, 2001
Sour sent me an email today, asking me what I thought of Neutral Milk Hotel. Sometimes I forget that I haven't known her that long and that she wasn't present for my college obsessions. Anyway, so she got me thinking about them and these lines are stuck in my head now:
She will feed you tomatoes and radio wires And retire to sheets safe and clean But don't hate her when she gets up to leave I haven't listened to them in a while, as they had too many associations (see earlier entry about wishing my memory weren't so good), but I think it would be nice to listen to them now. Hmm, maybe Susie-q has the album and we could listen while we make dinner.... K, time to head umbrella-less into the storm now.
Buy this book when it comes out next month and you will be embarrassed by how much you laugh. Or, if you prefer, you can buy it in hardcover now.
I hate Sprint PCS. They keep not billing me and then sending me bills saying payment is overdue. And when I try to call and straighten things out, I get put on hold for 40 minutes, waiting for the 'next available operator.' No exaggeration, 40 f-ing minutes. The time before that, there was a 30-minute wait. And they don't care that their customers are unhappy. I went so far as to write a formal complaint letter, but to no avail. I would just switch, except my stupid cell phone won't work with any other service. I hate how they do that, rope you into staying with them by making it expensive and inconvenient to try to switch. I have been contemplating getting rid of my cell phone altogether, but then every once in a while, when I am running late or can't remember the directions, I am forced to reconsider. So I figure the least that I can do is post a mini-PSA here...sigh.
Monday, July 16, 2001
I never remember to put sunscreen in the part of my hair (is this even possible to do without ending up with goopy hair?) or on my ears and they always burn....Ah, the perils of being fair-skinned. (*scratches head and then winces*)
Mmmm, such a lovely weekend. Friday was a total me-day, with a trip to the Met and a 2-hour power yoga class. Then Saturday, I was up early and on my way to Fire Island with the girls and Mr. Frank. We were originally supposed to go to Robert Moses State Park, but then Mr. Frank was insistent that we venture further, out to an area called the Pines. The beach was gorgeous and quiet...and filled with gay men (suddenly, it was clear what his motivation was). I think I saw maybe 5 other women there, tops. Which was kinda nice, actually...no leering from overtanned musclemen is a good thing. So we lounged all day. Sour and I sipped frozen margaritas, and we all ended up with great beach hair. I think we might have to make this a weekly event....
Friday, July 13, 2001
K, time to leave work and got to the Met. To see what, you ask? Why, the Jackie O exhibit, of course.
I forgot to mention that my dinner with the high school guy the other night went very well. It seems we have both grown up a bit since last we saw each other...and he has learned to listen to others rather than just constantly talk about himself. We ate yummy Italian and got cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery, and then went our separate ways again.
I like it when I am pleasantly surprised by people. It's also nice to be reminded that sometimes letting time pass is the best action, even though it can be frustrating and feel like giving up. And I definitely needed to be reminded of that fact this week, after an awkward run-in with someone left me thinking about decisions I made months ago, and wondering if there wasn't some better way. Not that I meant to get all self-help or anything, just what I've been thinking about.... Thursday, July 12, 2001
Lately, I wish that I had a terrible memory, that I was one of those people who has to constantly be retold stories. It seems that I can only forget practical things--letters lay on my dresser for weeks as they wait to be mailed, several of the same small tasks reappear on my to-do list every day, and I am surprised every time I see them. But the way my childhood best friend's house smelled, the song that was playing on the stereo at some crucial moment, a small gesture that, when repeated, calls up some too-familiar wave of emotion--those are so deeply impressed upon me that they surface without a moment for me to intervene, to attempt to exercise my will over them. I have been particularly aware lately, especially with smells. I open a door and am hit with a blast of air that is inevitably infused with the scent of some unique nostalgia. These smells are always slightly stale but sweet--a grandmother's closet, a dusty hallway, the pages of an old book. For a split second I am transported elsewhere, leaving a gap in the present into which words fall, not even echoing on their way down, lost. Sometimes these transportations are pleasant, other times frightening or sad, but no matter what the emotion evoked, lately I have found them almost entirely unbearable. They are too much, too sudden, and I wish to be able to lose this gift (and I do usually believe it is a gift) a while. Just a brief respite from what has come before, that's all....
Why is it that the powers that be have to keep the air conditioning in my office at just below arctic? I mean, yes it's July...but it hasn't really been that hot outside, and even when it is, there is no reason to make it so cold my fingers ache when I type. It screws up my balance. I'm walking around bundled up in wool sweaters all day and then 7 o'clock comes and I switch to a tube top in order to prepare myself for the blast of heat and humidity that will hit as soon as I step out of the revolving doors. That can't be good for me.
Wednesday, July 11, 2001
So I put that little imood mood indicator thingy on my site (although I'm not sure how long it's going to stay...). Anyway, when you log out after changing your mood, it gives you the current mood of the Internet, presumably based on how many people have chosen that as their mood. It has been 'tired' every single time I have ever logged out. Are we in a perpetual state of exhaustion?
This article presents a good argument for why I am more than a little skeptical about the easy access we have to psychotropic drugs.
Tuesday, July 10, 2001
So here's the weird thing that I've realized for today. The business writers are, on the whole, the nicest group of authors I interact with. They're always super-friendly and ask me questions about what I'm working on, and they remember my name and all those niceties. They also seem to be the most personable, which is odd, considering that much of what they write is rather dry and boring...Strange, huh?
Monday, July 09, 2001
Ooooh, there's a Zadie Smith reading tonight. Wanna come along?
If you can't make it, you can read about her here and here. Oh, and see what her favorite stuff is here. And then see how her next book goes here. That ought to keep you busy for a little while. Now, run along, you've got reading to do.
People from my past are coming out of the woodwork these days. I am having dinner tomorrow night with this guy I had a thing with way back in the high school days, but then we grew up and apart. He's been travelling the world and has landed in Long Island for a day or two, and so...dinner. It should be interetsing. I am hoping he has given up his quest to be the next Hemingway (misogynistic tendencies and all), and that maybe he's learned a few things during the course of his journeys....I guess we'll see....
And then Cort called me from California yesterday. She will soon be back on the east coast (in Connecticut even), which means I'll get to see her much more often! I am a happy girl :) Friday, July 06, 2001
I hate the label 'women's fiction.' Hate it. Or rather, I hate what it has come to stand for. Can't we just get rid of this as a category? I mean, really.
Check this out...(good for naming characters in stories, but also fascinating in its own right--Madison was the third most popular female name in 2000? Weird.)
Susie-q is moving to Park Slope next month, woo-hoo! All part of my master plot to convince all of my friends to move to my neighborhood...*laughs an evil and triumphant laugh*
Thursday, July 05, 2001
Read this and be afraid.
Look at this and laugh (especially if you are at all familiar with New York).
Argh, I have spent all day on the phone getting contact info for permissions people at various magazines. Now I have to compile it all into permissions request forms. This is the not-so-fun part of my job, I guess. Thank goodness I only have to do it once in a while (mostly for anthologies, like the one I am working on today)...Some of them gave me direct phone numbers of well-known authors...I could call them up and ask them questions if I wanted...I like the idea of that...I mean, I would pretty much never do it (not being the stalking type), but still, the power...bwahahaha ;)
Tuesday, July 03, 2001
My door has been broken since I moved into my new apartment a month ago. At first, it was just that the top hinge was loose, so I had to lift up on the door in order to close it. Then the hinge fell out completely and had to be pounded back into the door nightly. Messages were left on the landlord's answerphone (the British word for answering machine, which I like better than the American version), but they went unreturned. I just kept pounding it back in...and calling. Then there was the housewarming party. A friend, unaware of its brokenness, tried to close the door behind him and the entire thing came loose. So I had been lifting it up and leaning it against the frame in order to have some semblance of privacy, as I waited for the landlords to find a handyman. Finally, the other morning, at 4 a.m., a gust of wind sent the leaning door crashing to the ground, smashing a lamp in the process. I was not a happy chickadee. This all is starting to sound like a sitcom, and I am beginning to realize why television shows making jokes about repairs in apartments have become such a regular occurrence.
Monday, July 02, 2001
Mmmm, what a lovely weekend. First there was crazy/beautiful Friday night, which I enjoyed despite the cliches and the cringe-inducing voice-over at the end. Kirsten Dunst makes just about anything worth watching :)
Then Saturday was the mermaid parade. I had never been to Coney Island, and I LOVED it there. It's cheesy in the best possible of ways. It was hot (like 90+ degrees), but I was lathered in sunscreen and toting a big bottle of water, so I was just fine. Lots of scantily clad people dressed in mermaid and sea creature attire (my favorite=the Mermones, a Ramones parody that was funny and included music--always a plus). We ate Italian ices and bought tix to see a baseball game at the new stadium later in the summer. We waded in the ocean. We became sun-drunk and exhausted and returned home to nap. Then there was a BBQ in my old neighborhood and so we went and stuffed ourselves. Mmmmm... Yesterday, D was visiting from Boston and so there was brunch in the West Village, complete with mimosas, and followed by ice cream at Cones, my new obsession. We got caught in a thunderstorm and ran laughing through Union Square, hair plastered to our faces and clothes clinging to our skin. We ducked into Barnes and Noble, still giggling and chattering. I dried my hair with paper towels in the bathroom and G had to borrow my extra shirt. D insisted on all of us having a picture taken in our waterlogged states, and we complied, making faces and not caring that we looked like tourists. Finally, G and I went to see A.I. It was awful. This review is pretty spot-on. The least subtle film I have seen in quite some time--obvious, disjointed, and (as is typical of Spielberg) schmaltzy. We were so bored in the middle that I thought we were both going to drift into napland. And the most frustrating thing was that you could see that it was the product of good ideas, just really poorly executed...sigh. And so that was my weekend. I am tired now and grateful for the midweek holiday that awaits.... < # blog girls ? >  
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