Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Reason Number 2013: Dealbreakers, some more obvious than others

at the risk of being a broken record, hats
(subheading: fedora, Panama, driving cap, tam, BERET, wide-brimmed, floppy, and, for that matter, hair accessories of almost any kind)
Burning Man
long leather coats
McSorley's as favorite place
dumb, contextless Sanskrit mantras chanted by white Brooklynites in an otherwise inoffensive yoga class
self-aggrandizing Macbook photobooth sessions
use of "no?" as rhetorical device, e.g. "Roberto Cavalli really nailed it with his fall '11 RTW collection, no?"
thinking Spanish is an easily-learned language
St. Patricks Day
real, raw emotions felt over sports you're not actually playing
over-involvement costuming oneself
New Years Eve (though even I'll admit there've been some good ones)
Guess by Marciano
Inception, obviously
elaborate smoking devices
people who discuss hand-rolled cigarettes other than to say "I think I'll roll myself a cigarette" or "Would you like me to roll you a cigarette?" or some other logistical concern
talking about how much you love the 80's
James Franco
being offended
sudden acquisition of an accent
referring to Bob Dylan as a poet
for that matter, referring to any song lyrics as poetry, unless you're talking about Great White
uttering the phrase "style icon"
expensive, coordinated exercise clothing
refusal to wear sunscreen in predicaments that require sunscreen
elaborate menu substitutions
rudeness to service people
making fun of the homeless
bath products made to smell like desserts
diet tips
adult braces
refusal to make fun of people who do deserve it, goddamn it
LAN parties
stringently and inflexibly adhering to a theme when throwing a party
insistence on making a particular face/affecting a particular posture in pictures for any reason
most quotes
ordering soup at restaurants in which the soup is not prioritized, or generally well-regarded
Las Vegas
most facebook status updates
pretty much all references to St. Tropez
prescriptionless glasses

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Reason Number 2012: People be fluting

Rejection is a mother. And I mean mother on multiple levels.

Ahem, I'm never the kind of girl to pine over boys at shows, and I think this officially takes me to an altogether new level of lame, but:

Employment of atypical instruments, or instruments used in atypical contexts? Snags me every time.

Writing a cover letter is one of the least enjoyable yet most necessary tasks. Up there with tampon insertion and swallowing enormous calcium supplements, but at least those take two seconds.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Reason Number 424:Chickpeas

After revisiting "Too Close," I remembered when I first heard it and though Next was bemoaning the tribulations of relationships, ladies making things difficult rather than facilitating gigantic boners. There was a time when I thought boners were caused by changes in weather patterns, and that subway trains were not operated by drivers, and instead by some kind of all-powerful centralized computer system, but at some point reality hits and you realize Silk is actually five guys, not just one, and touchdowns are not tackles, and there is no fourth plate.

These are the things that keep a person up late at night.

In the daytime, there are chickpeas, imo one of the most versatile proteins ever, and alongside sea salt, olive oil, and a cast iron skillet one of my most utilized pantry staples. And! Not only can you mix them with pasta, a satiating curry or formulate your very own homemade hummus, you can also employ chickpea flour in certain baked goods. And did I mention they're more than just okay eaten straight out of the can?

Vegan cornbread was not a resounding success, but that's probably more because as a Southerner (by the Grace of God, of course) I have a very set idea about how cornbread should taste, and crumble in one's mouth. Namely: buttery, salty, sandy. Was worth a shot, though. And it was super easy. Might be good draped in peanut butter, or drizzled with honey, which I bought in fucking abundance (and for so cheap!) at Titan Foods in Astoria, for sure the best Greek market in the city.

Sometimes in brokeness I find myself more materialistic, or a different shade of materialistic. Like, I've been hoarding recipes on tastebook.com, a dangerously incredible recipe search database that allows you to save and store recipes in a folder! YES! I'm sure this is old news for most epicures who actually know how to use computers and internets, but I was very delighted by the possibility of storing recipes on these internets, because I feel like I always end up with a disorganized, daunting bookmarks bar, or forget where I found that white bean cassoulet recipe I was looking to try. Sigh.

Oh man, and the chickpea recipe options on this thing could distract me for days.

I've also been craving a cactus collection, which may or may not indicate I've actually lost it. But plants you can neglect! The kitties of house plants!

Reason Number 423: Alaia sandals, unflinching productivity

I should have known there would be more wintry mix before this capricious winter draws to a dribbly close. I never thought optimism would be my undoing, but like an idiot I'm gun-jumping, blasting choice arias from Handel's Messiah as I drink Coors Light from a repurposed peanut butter jar, stowing away thick sweaters and shearling boots, relieved over something that's not really over yet.

March gets me every time with its inscrutable whims, and now I kinda sound like Jonathan Edwards, but it could be worse. I could sound like Nicholas Sparks, or Rivers Cuomo, or James Franco (aaah I just dropped JF on this blog, it's definitely time to chase my favorite bottle of percocet with a handle of Evan Williams and call it a lovely afternoon).

Perplexed at whateverthefuckisgoingon, folding, unfolding, refolding clothing, uncertain what should be stored, what should be put to use, I unearth my Alaia sandals, the zenith of my Neiman Marcus Last Call discoveries. They are perfect sandals, distinctive yet neutral, unfalteringly comfortable, a means of elevating even the dumbest, laziest summer outfits. I know I will wear them soon, but for now I will enjoy this transitional climate, which is still preferable to that of January, I suppose.

I'm getting some super quality creative writing done. When I'm writing fiction it's difficult to know what will be funny, what will be tragic, and that sometimes makes me feel like a terrible writer, but then I'm like, wait a minute, it doesn't matter one bit, and it's how I live my life. One of the last times I had a serious good cry was over the stray kitten I used to feed smashed flat in the middle of 116th St. I'd like to say that's the worst thing that's happened to me in three years, but many other things just make me laugh, or feel stern, and not because I don't care, but what in the world else are you going to do?

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Reason Number 422: Rupert Holmes says it the way you wanna say it

More breaking news: people are seriously not nice.

Adverbial crutches!

There's also absolutely nothing you can do about that aside from eat a bagel, take a jog, realize you're probably not that nice either. Or, if you're really ambitious, bake some bread, which is something I've never done before, but oh get ready because here it comes. I'm sure it'll be a failure the first, even the second time, and let's be perfectly honest, probably the third, but someday I'll bake a loaf worth swooning over.

There will also come a time when I will walk out on adverbs once and for all, and my writing will bloom with crisp promise. Not gloriously bloom or astonishingly bloom or even simply bloom, but bloom.

I know I said I'd write about dealbreakers, but here I am, dealbreaking.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Reason Number 421: First Iced Coffee of the Year, Not Counting the One I Drank in Los Angeles

Breaking news: People are not nice.

I think in every post I reference a bad pop song or unpopular vocalist. This probably won't change, and right now I'm absolutely dying to drop Glen Medeiros but I just won't. Or will I? Or did I just? The games we play.

I think I like being embarrassed more than other people do. In fact, I know I like being embarrassed more than other people do, because most people don't enjoy being embarrassed whatsoever.

At this stage in my writing life, I try not to compare myself to famous authors, because that's generally a pointless, grief-inducing strategy, but as I approach thirty my worries about my literary shortcomings are heightened to the point that I wake up sweaty thinking holy shit, Flannery O'Connor was only ten years older than me when she died and even boring writers I don't care about like Junot Diaz were starting to publish at twenty-seven and man oh man I'm not as young as I used to be, or think I am. But then there are total badass weirdos like Grace Paley who didn't publish until their late thirties, which gives me another decade, but decades fly by as they say. And I know I'll never be a Joyce Carol Oates, and I wouldn't want to be, and most likely I'll end up a Ronald Firbank, or an anonymous monk who transcribed segments of Beowulf and imho turned them into Jesus-speak, or maybe even an Aldo Buzzi if I'm lucky, and by lucky I mean perseverant. The point being I need to punch myself in the face and try harder.

Also, LA's pretty cool. I drank my first iced coffee of 2011 there, but fuck if I'm going to count it. This fine New York morning I scaled the stairs in the New Science Building to drink the yuppiest iced coffee in town, and right now I can't think of any better way to spend four dollars than delicious caffeination, which is not a word, and the idea of making up words is really dumb unless you're David Foster Wallace, who should have read this blog because listening to "Rhythm Nation" would totally have given him the fortitude he needed to not kill himself.

Sometimes I ask myself why the J. Crew factory online store is only open on weekends, but then I realize I know exactly why, and feel embarrassed for thinking about the J. Crew factory online store in the first place, but since I like being embarrassed I continue thinking about the J. Crew factory online store, and smile.

And next time: dealbreakers.

And, in the near future, an -ly adverb-free post. It's like Oulipo all up in here! Constraints. Challenges. Life being a highway and all.