Wednesday, April 30, 2008
I like Tao Lin's article in The Stranger about Seattle. All people do in Seattle is talk about Seattle and The Stranger. They don't like either, but everyone has written for the latter and no one wants to move to Portland.
Everyone leaves Seattle, and new people move in every five years. Seattle has 10 permanent residents whose job it is to send reports of Seattle to everyone else and keep track of the new names of bars and restaurants, which also change every five years. The list of new and old bar names is stored on an enormous mildewy scroll, underneath Mount Rainier.
The new library is a secret graveyard for failed Ikea furniture designs. The 10 Permanent Residents of Seattle know that the books are stored at Suzzallo Library (see above) at the University of Washington, which connects to Allen Library (named after Paul) through a secret passageway so you don’t fall on your ass walking from Suzzallo to Allen over wet bricks. These are the only bricks in Seattle.
If you take a plane from Chicago, the Seattle people stand around politely, planning where to move next, while stout Chicago people push to the front and honk. If you lived in one city your whole life, you might honk too.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Thursday, April 24, 2008
There is a new Veggie Bite in Wicker Park, which is totally vegan and serves awesome french fries which remind me of the ones at Dick's on Broadway in Seattle (see the Sir Mixalot song where he raps about Dick's on Broadway). I haven't seen anyone I know yet, so I suspect the restaurant is hiring vegan actors or just importing vegans from other states until Chicago has enough vegans and vegetarians.
Also, cow burps are worse for the environment than my poor excuse for a car. And also, gross.
I get tired of rejection letters from magazines no one reads. A lot of times those magazines will reject something, and I just change the title and send it a magazine I like, which usually works.
I don't keep very good track of things, so sometimes I think I'm being rejected, and really, nothing is happening. It's hard to tell the difference between rejection and nothing happening.
Sometimes I come up with theories about why my stories are being rejected, but actually, I haven't sent them anywhere. My theories usually are related to the perceived lack of interest in hallucinatory visions of Gumby.
Some magazines make you mail things, but I am too impulsive to mail anything, except seasons of DVDs to relatives who have shingles and are tired of everything on cable. Sometimes an activity like that can take all day, and I don't even have shingles. I'm not convinced mail ever leaves Chicago.
Anyway, I've included this rejection letter from Disney. I would like to receive a rejection letter like this. Perhaps I already have, but I don't check or open my mail.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
yesterday i got tao lin's new book "cognitive behavioral therapy." i read it last night. i really like it. after i read it i felt like i had been inside his head for six months, sitting in his room, drinking his energy drink, feeling kind and confused. here is one of my favorite lines:
my favorite emotions include 'brief calmness
in good weather' and 'i am the only person alive'
also my absolute favorite is "hamsters are heads with little characteristics on the head, part two." it's about a hamster taking a shower and feeling sad, and i really want to type the whole thing here, but i feel like i can't. can i? if enough people say i can, i will.
i am a fan of cognitive behavioral therapy. i have been doing metta meditation, which i think is kind of a cognitive behavioral therapy. possibly that is an offensive statement. but anyway.
metta meditation is when you say blessings for yourself, and learn self-compassion. and then once you've got that knocked out, you say blessings for a friend, a neutral person, then an enemy. and then you gradually come to feel compassion or "lovingkindness" for all things.
it's good for people who hate themselves. you might not think you hate yourself but odds are you probably do.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
In Seattle, we had an earthquake once where the building hopped up and down for two terrifying minutes. I stood in a doorway, like they did during the earthquake episode of Beverly Hills 90210. Some of my coworkers had panic attacks or crawled on the floor, awaiting death. All I could think about was: why didn't I buy a latte this morning? I was going to die all uncaffeinated.
After the pathetically small earthquake in Chicago this morning, I invite you all to reconsider how you could have spent the earthquake, such as delivering a baby in an elevator, like Brandon did, or going to therapy, like Donna did at the suggestion of that boyfriend who threw her down the stars.
UPDATE: I guess we had a second earthquake about 20 minutes after I posted this. I didn't notice at all, though the projector in my classroom looked a little wonky.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
I just watched that pregnant teenager movie, and Ellen Page and her sweater vests are so adorable. I want to give her the pinch-punch. Not in that way, sickos. She is like 12 and was born in 1987. 1987! Ellen Page, please call me in 2012, when you are 25, and I am, uh, 29. Yeah right. 29.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
i love her blond bob and soothing voice. also, she is my psychic role model. please recall the i-dreamed-sarah-dyed-her-hair-and-then-she-did incident. also i like how she can dress in businesswoman suits without looking like a d-bag. also i like her in the movie "human nature," because if there's one thing i love more than psychics it's werewolf syndrome.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
I am my own celebrity crush!
Did I mention that these photos have NOT been retouched?!!? GOD! Look at those teeth.
My hair is as soft as a duckling-butt and my nose as cute as a kitten's nipple! My chin is as smooth as the knee of a Great Dane taking its first breath after emerging from its mother's womb. My brows are fuzzy but neat like the belly of a chimp. I smell like....are there any animals that smell good....umm...a chihua- no. I smell like the flower-scented beak of a hummingbird collecting its sweet, sweet nectar. My bosom is supple and firm like the shoulder of a champion race horse. They call it animal magnetism...you need it to be a celebrity.
I'm psyched that there's a new Portishead album. People born in the 1980's might think of Portishead as a "fondue band" (see the above-linked article from the New Yorker), but they are cheesy in the best sort of way, intense, like that roommate you had in college who was always scribbling into an ugly velvety notebook and having deep intellectual thoughts about the universe while doing too much speed. You might wince a little, but you know you love it.
The picture is of Ruth (her name in real life is Nicola Walker). You may look at her and say, "Wha? This does not seem like celebrity crush material." You are dead wrong because you do not know Ruth like I know Ruth. Everybody underestimates her, and then her brain leaps up and kicks their asses.
Also, I just learned from her imdb page that she is practically six feet tall. That's hot.
I also have raging crushes on David Oyelowo and Keeley Hawes and Rupert Penry-Jones, but Ruth has my heart.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Something just occurred to me: we have not been devoting nearly enough of our blog to celebrity crushes. I hereby designate this week Celebrity Crush Week, if no one is opposed. We can look at beautiful people all week in celebration of spring and breeding.
My first contribution is the beautiful and delicious Rocco Dispirito, which if you don't watch Top Chef and you have Bravo, you need to watch it for the rare moment when Rocco makes an appearance. (And also for Padma Lakshmi, who is actually probably hotter than Rocco, except that she used to be married to Salman Rushdie, which diminishes her hotness.) You can also see Rocco on Bertoli commercials, which diminishes HIS attractiveness for sure, because he can totally cook and in the Bertoli commercials cooks things that come in plastic bags. And his cooking is even hotter than his perfectly-chiseled cheekbones.
I discovered in my photo-hunting, though, that he's beautiful on film but not all that photogenic in regular photos. Just like me. And there are no pictures anywhere of him with his shirt off. Boo hoo.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
This is what I imagine Indiana to be like. There are lunch pail trees. I think Kathy would be Fairuza Balk in Indiana.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
I have not had a beer in 22 days. How does that make me feel (thanks for asking)? Bored. And boring. I don't know when I will have a beer again. I'm going to start a support group for people who don't want to give up beer forever, can't submit to a higher power but who also can't drink beer for a certain amount of time, or whatever their doctor says. Everyone in my cult, er, group will have to wear sensible, environmentally friendly shoes like mine. Get the ones with dots on them. I tried, but those look like a Volkswagen bus in my size.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Ok, whoa, this is not as exciting as all The Vus that are going on in Sarah and Kathy's office. But I have a new story, "Requiem for an Almost Lady," in The Mississippi Review movies issue.
It's page 27.
Maud Newton mentioned it on her page. Yay, thanks!
The movies issue was edited by Jürgen Fauth & Marcy Dermansky
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Friday, April 4, 2008
Maud Newton put a link to my story Pittsburgh on her blog. Maud Newton is super cool. Then Gawker linked to it (page down to right before the picture of Jezebel). I think my book ran away from home and is secretly living in Brooklyn