Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Checking in, but not really, vanillaface.

Hi. You know what I'm missing? Lyricism, Crispness, and spicey-sweet desserts. That means I'm just a wet, rotting leaf that floated onto mediocre skim milky rice pudding instead of that warm pumpkin scone. It's enough to struggle halfheartedly with my leafy, limp hands.

Now I'm going to link to stuff.

I enjoyed this profile of Harry Reid, who is "the Man in the News," which is the title of this NYT news section. That seems like a rather silly title for a section, as if there being a man in the news is some sort of unnatural occurrence. I vote for "the Man in the Yellow Hat in the News" instead. Now that would turn heads. Anyways, Harry Reid, the next Senate Majority leader, sounds like great fun. For example, when you hang out with him, you can gossip about Britney Spears, do yoga, ask him questions about being Mormon, have a boxing match, and call each other on the phone just to say, I love you. I especially like the part about him and Chuck Schumer "whacking each other like kids." Now that I've given most of the profile away, you should read it. Or you can, like, totally check out his blog.

Defective Yeti is reading Moby Dick, a novel that doesn't sound like, ahem, smooth sailing. But he's also very funny: "Today Bush attended a a study group; next week he'll be going to Vietnam. Maybe he's having a midlife crisis or something, and frantically trying to do all those things he didn't do as a youth." Zing! Made me laugh. And say "zing!" outloud, so that you could tell it was italicized.

I've found that I've been looking for epiphanies in all the wrong places. All you have to do is take the 6 to Park and 23rd and walk a couple blocks and BAM! Epiphany! I've now twice just spelled that word of illumination with two ph's. Yeah, Ephiph and Tiff and Brit, and like, Skylar and Dylan, we're like totally going to the mall now, 'kay Mom?

Do kids hang out at the mall still? I don't even know. I mean, there's still nowhere else to hang out in suburbia. I mean, that is the definition of suburbia, "nowhere cool to hang out, really."

Then there's this excerpt by Gabrielle Hamilton of Prune from How I Learned to Cook...", a collection of anecdotes from zillions of cheffy chefs. (I like the colors of the cover. Classy!) A woman! who's a chef! who writes! Bourdain likes her a lot, I know, and she's supposed to be coming out with a book soon. I'm supposed to be eating at her restaurant soon. Epiph told me on her way to the mall. (Prune is one of those places I've always really wanted to go to but never have. Because I'm po'. And now I live in the wilds of suburbia. See above.)

Sober Cat Power sounds like she'd be fun to talk to too. Errr. She'd be someone with whom it would be fun to talk. Or as she says, "Oh rarararar."

I haven't had much time to delve into new music lately...been listening to my ladies instead. Lots of Cat and Regina and Billie and Neko along with some Portuguese and Brazilian sorts of stuff. Oh and these Swedish fellows. Any recs? Point the way. Light the light. Take the 6 train.

2 comments:

mosh said...

Re: kids. Word on the street is they hang out at Panera. So reports my brother. This so didn't exist when we were in Edison.

janet said...

Yeah. Because Panera used to be like Red Lobster or something. And it's even sadder to hang out at Red Lobster. Panera is not bad if you want to get some work done. The coffee is not that good though. le sigh. And it closes at 10/10:30. Bleh.