March 2010
29 posts
My only good ideas ever come in the shower. I have yet to find a waterproof computer so I have to jump out, soaking wet and write down whatever it is I was thinking, but it’s never as good as it is in the shower. Which is the case right this very second. I wrote a goddamn Lydia Davis story in my mind in the shower and the second I got out it was jumbled and no longer all that great. It did...
I write about mothers as though mine was this horrible monster who abused me, or, at the very least, ignored me. None of that’s true. She was the first mother in line everyday at school to pick me up so I never had to wait or ride home with someone else. She stamped hearts or smiley faces into my crustless sandwiches. She let me stay home from school to swim in our pool (and also because she...
Not That It Was Ever All That Funny
I have been attempting to write from my hammock everyday after work this week (because it gets dark so unnaturally late these days) but everything is either really dark or really dark plus really angry. Mostly due to my realization that there isn’t a single good to decent person in this entire world. (Where’s the humor in that?)
While almost everything I’ve ever written is about...
Things I Don't Understand (Part 12)
-Glee
-Couscous
-Why my bike pedal came off
-Megan Fox
-Human nature
- The space time continuum
-Why hobo’s STILL go through my trash (have they not yet seen enough of Monkey’s poop to be turned off by it?)
-Why my boss crouches over like she’s an umpire whilst looking in the fridge. Every time.
-Chicken fried steak (I mentally can’t wrap my head around it enough...
I have to secret-ish dreams for my life.
1. Get raped and/or killed on an episode Law & Order: SVU
2. Be an architect.
Whistling, Too.
I really want to kite surf but I think kites are sinister. Like windchimes. In a rapist’s tool kit, is what I’m saying.
“There are unheralded tipping points, a certain number of times that we will...”
– The Colossus of New York, Colson Whitehead. (He’s just trying to break my heart.)
Why I Can't Write a Book (Reason #1333)
I always start writing something and then I need to look up some sort of fact (for example, when the coca-cola company went public) and then I end up spending the next 3 hours on wikipedia learning about nothing of importance.
This is why I cannot write a book and why I’m excellent at Jeopardy.
True story, I’m a Jeopardy wizard. Can’t add single digit numbers but can soundly...
I’d like to look into banning faux leather. And faux meats. Also the word faux.
Pop Art is for the birds.
Note to self: start saying that phrase more often.
Turns out I once googled “Jews in space.”
I have a lot of first sentences to stories I started writing and obviously got bored writing. After the first sentence. Ocassionally there’s something with 2 or 3 sentences and rarely is there anything with an entire paragraph. I have email drafts to myself and Post-It notes on my desk with things like, “She decided on that day that she would start wearing gang colors.” or...
I’ve never understood people who play (is that the right verb? [Certainly that cannot be the right verb]) Dominos.
“The year I began to say vahz instead of vase, a man I barely knew nearly...”
– http://www.pifmagazine.com/1998/09/the-harvest/
PS I'm Old
10 years after graduating high school I am still absolutely panic stricken when I see a graphing calculator.
april, 2008
I really miss New York. Carroll keeps sending me these essays about it, I guess because she’s leaving too. And they make me sad. They make me miss my first days, or weeks, living there. My first apartment was in Chelsea, with two gay boys and some rats. I’d scream when I saw the rats and jump onto my bed- an air mattress that would deflate everynight. I didn’t know, until Hunter...
4 tags
Poor Lincoln, Abe
Pennies never add up. The person who started that phrase was either born during the Dust Bowl or was/is an absolute coot.*
Do you know how much 100 pennies weighs? I do not. But it’s surely more than I can lift and certainly more than I can hold in one hand. That’s one dollar. One dollar. I can buy nothing of interest for a dollar.
While I’m on the subject of pennies, what...