Thursday, August 27, 2015

Plus a whole bunch of New Yorkers

The summer do take a bite, don't she?

Some Books I Have Read Lately, and Brief Thoughts Thereupon

Stone Mattress, Margaret Atwood: Short stories, some of which are loosely connected, all of which are goddamn ridiculously good and stick in the brain like oatmeal in a toddler's hair.

Can't We Talk About Something More Pleasant?, Roz Chast: Cartoon memoir, I guess? Powerful, occasionally funny, occasionally bleak, had the side effect of making me see the silver lining of my parents both dying relatively young and suddenly.

Station Eleven, Emily St. John Mandel: Hoooooo boy. Apocalyptic/dystopian, aka right up my alley; Atwoodian, even further up my alley. Absolutely fucking compelling (I mean I for real COULD NOT PUT IT DOWN), and in parts extremely unsettling.

Fun Home, Alison Bechdel: Still not finished, but really liking this -- I'm not generally the graphic novel type (the Chast notwithstanding), but it's the perfect way of expression for this story.

Microserfs, Douglas Coupland: A re-read, at an interval of about 10 years. Still love it (although I skimmed a whole lot of the Deep Thoughts About Man and Machine). Fun to see what has and has not changed in Silicon Valley (Apple, for instance, is circling the toilet at the time of the novel -- people hoping for a buyout package so they can leave, Steve Jobs ousted, etc.). Made me ugly-cry at the end.

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Wednesday, May 13, 2015

It's almost medical, what goes on under here ...

Jesus Hopscotching Christ do I love Tina Fey and also David Letterman.

This is beautiful -- and you should also check out the first part of her appearance, because that was the fucking awesomest.


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Monday, May 11, 2015

Timothy Simons is as wonderful as Jonah (aka Jonad) is awful. Please to discuss.

You know how lots of times, you'll read more about a writer or actor or musician whose work you really like, and find out they are a total d-bag or serial cheater or anti-vaxxer or a Libertarian or something, and then you're just like, ugh, I wish I hadn't gone looking and found that out. Right?

Well here is the total opposite of that situation: Timothy Simons, who plays Jonah on Veep.

Jonah, the character, is a loathsome, grasping, legend-in-his-own-mind type who both takes and dishes out the worst insults on the regular. He's strange, he's awful -- and in his own way, a true marvel.

Timothy, the actor, is awesome! He's funny, charming, thoughtful, feminist, organically weird -- ever since I stumbled across this blog post of his, I have been reading every interview he's given and fantasy-casting him in all of my favorite books (I see him as Wyatt in Monday, Monday; as Bunny -- who I know is written blond but who cares -- in The Secret History, etc.).

Refreshing, is what it is, to find out more about a public figure and it's all good. Yay, humans!

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The "Boots & Barkley" section at Target gives me the sads too, if you must know.

The saddest personalized license plate frame I have ever seen: I LOVE MY GRAND-DOGS!

I can't. It already makes me sad when people say their pets are "their children," but this is a level beyond. I hope it was a joke, like when people wear bowling shirts with "Wilma" stitched on the chest.

It was a joke, right? Surely.

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Friday, April 10, 2015

You can wear my clothes

Friday, March 20, 2015

The lengthy excerpt from Margaret Atwood's "Cat's Eye" is not even the weirdest part of all this.

I do not have time right now to go into this, because I have to go practice my bass and then go get my kids from school, but the September 1989 issue of Seventeen is making me feel as though I have not ever had an original thought in my ENTIRE LIFE, as if everything I have ever thought, or felt, or worn, or held in esteem, came from this ancient scroll which I now hold in my hands. TIME IS A FLAT CIRCLE.

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Wednesday, March 18, 2015

The 25th Hour, starring Ned and Maude Flanders

MY BOOKS ARE OUT OF BOOK JAIL!!!

I had a happy day a couple of months ago, organizing them. I don't alphabetize, I don't have a real system, but I know the kind of things I want next to each other. Here are a couple of pics of some of the subsections: 

THE APOCALYPSE/DYSTOPIAN/GENERALLY FUCKED-UP SECTION
I mean, Jesus -- global thermonuclear war, 9/11, serial killers, religious fanatics, fucking Tiger Eyes ...

THE NEW YORK SECTION
There's other NY stuff in the Biography and Food/Cooking sections. This ain't all, y'all. 

THE SOMEBODY WENT TO SCHOOLY-SCHOOL, DIDN'T THEY? SECTION
These are on a wayback shelf, I promise. Only an insufferable twat would put this stuff where it would be easily accessible. 


A SHELF OF SOME OF THE GLEEMONEX HOUSEHOLD FAVORITES
Just realized it's missing both To Kill a Mockingbird and Pride and Prejudice;  those are on my bedside table. Must get extras for public shelf, here. 


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Wednesday, March 04, 2015

Cause darling, I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream

So I am feeling very very weird right now, because it's my first full day alone since the three weeks of pre-delivery maternity leave I took in October/November 2011 -- Danger Toddler is now Danger Preschooler, three days a week. 

I keep checking my rear-view mirror as I drive, having mini-panic attacks to see the carseat empty -- but then, I'm listening to Stern, which I haven't been able to do since he was a pre-verbal baby, so that's cool. I went to get a mammogram this morning after the gym because I am officially An Old (and lol, two hours later, I just realized I still have the stickers on -- they put these stickers around your nipple and any moles, of which I have one, to distinguish them on X-ray from stuff that oughtn't to be there), and only really "got" to do the mammo because I could go to the doc alone. I have not watched a single Paw Patrol, Olivia, or Blaze and the Monster Machines episode today; instead, I have dealt with arranging a trip for my in-laws, sorted out various "estate" stuff with my siblings, made plans for a wedding we're going to in July, done some work on a pediatric cancer fundraiser, eaten a real lunch, and now am writing (without worrying that every time I move my chair an inch, the scraping sound on the tile floor will wake the kid from his nap and Productive Tyme is over). And but I am oddly bereft, verklempt even, and missing his sweet little ol' voice -- nobody's asked me for "gummy beaws" all day today, or told me that the 18-inch-tall plastic dinosaur is his "banana shooter" and is about to shoot bananas at me, so "Wook out, Mommy, or you'll get banana on you!"

So, back to eating more of those cream-cheese-filled cupcakes I made with Kid Gleemonex the other day. And also to more writing. The time has come. 

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