07 March 2011
23 February 2011
an open letter to myself
Hey there,
Please stop eating Ruffles for lunch. This is a decision you will always regret. You will ride the Sickly train from Mild Anxiety all the way to the last stop, Self-Loathing. Go to the gym. Endorphins will make you feel better. And if you keep up with stretching you can stop hunching over your desk like a vulture. Your back won't hurt so much. You're slipping into procrastination again. If you do what you say you'll do you won't feel the guilt mixing with disappointment and the potato chips in the pit of your stomach. Buy some vegetables. You like them. We can talk about the shoes that cost a third of your rent some other time.
See you around,
me
Please stop eating Ruffles for lunch. This is a decision you will always regret. You will ride the Sickly train from Mild Anxiety all the way to the last stop, Self-Loathing. Go to the gym. Endorphins will make you feel better. And if you keep up with stretching you can stop hunching over your desk like a vulture. Your back won't hurt so much. You're slipping into procrastination again. If you do what you say you'll do you won't feel the guilt mixing with disappointment and the potato chips in the pit of your stomach. Buy some vegetables. You like them. We can talk about the shoes that cost a third of your rent some other time.
See you around,
me
13 February 2011
above the clouds
Being good at things is a nice feeling, closely followed by the desire to get even better at those things.
04 February 2011
disgruntled
It seems the 'world-class institution' that employs me is the only place open today despite the 'snow'. Roads are dry, but I still had to scrape off the shell of ice encasing my car with an old key card from the Boston Park Plaza hotel. Also, city of Houston, guess what happens when you sand the roads two days before the apocalypse? You get sandy curbs. It's going to be 65 tomorrow.
26 January 2011
19 January 2011
10 January 2011
[Christmas Day, '77
I stopped in Baton Rouge at a Holiday Inn. A man came up to me and said, "Hey. You see good? Read this number for me." He handed me a piece of paper with a phone number written on it. I read the number aloud as he dialed, then heard him begin talking. He said, "Called you to see if you'd let me come by and mess around. My mother is in a home. She can't walk. My brother and I are on two hundred acres with no one to talk to. His wife left him. I got no wife. That's why I'm calling. I got a new brick house and two hundred acres." The difference between us is that he'd made a realistic assessment of matters, and had a sense of possibilities and limits. As for me, I assessed little or nothing, but just wanted to record my thoughts, even the most negligible of them, like a poet.]
Time Out of Mind - The Diaries of Leonard Michaels
I stopped in Baton Rouge at a Holiday Inn. A man came up to me and said, "Hey. You see good? Read this number for me." He handed me a piece of paper with a phone number written on it. I read the number aloud as he dialed, then heard him begin talking. He said, "Called you to see if you'd let me come by and mess around. My mother is in a home. She can't walk. My brother and I are on two hundred acres with no one to talk to. His wife left him. I got no wife. That's why I'm calling. I got a new brick house and two hundred acres." The difference between us is that he'd made a realistic assessment of matters, and had a sense of possibilities and limits. As for me, I assessed little or nothing, but just wanted to record my thoughts, even the most negligible of them, like a poet.]
Time Out of Mind - The Diaries of Leonard Michaels
04 January 2011
quiz
This is:
a. Just before the ritual animal sacrifice
b. A rooftop bar next to the Empire State Building that provides free Snuggies*
*This is the only time I will ever be seen in one. I don't care what you say, Rivers Cuomo.
29 December 2010
ten
Even if this year wasn't spectacular emotionally or professionally or any of that other wanky shit, it was pretty good for signifiers of artistic taste. And if Facebook has taught us anything, it's that you're only as good as the things you like, right?
Favorite songs of 2010:
I spent a good two months listening only to acoustic stuff (I am the child of hippie parents), but eventually I came back around to the godless ways of electric instruments. Despite being a Houston band, I never got to see Indian Jewelry play live, something I plan to remedy in 2011. And I know the Beach House album was everyone's favorite of the year way back in January, but to be honest, my only exposure to it came over Thanksgiving when I heard "Norway" in a bar on the Upper East Side. And since then I've listened to it approximately 15 times a day. So it gets a spot on the list.
Phosphorescent - The Mermaid Parade
Warpaint - Undertow
Phantogram - Mouthful of Diamonds
Massive Attack - Paradise Circus
Interpol - Lights
Indian Jewelry - Excessive Moonlight
Beach House - Norway
Pacific Ocean Fire - You Were A Boxer
Hey! A handy mixtape!
Favorite movies:
Netflix Instant improved my quality of life approximately ten-fold (data not shown), so I didn't have much use for "the cinema". I'm pretty sure The Town was the only movie I saw all year, so... Seriously though, it was great. You can keep making gritty dramas about downtrodden blue-collar Bostonians forced into a life of crime and I will continue to love them and hiss into whoever's ear is closest that that's Copley Square and I've been to that Au Bon Pain.
Favorite books:
My library card's been getting a lot of use lately, along with the "pay fines online" button on the HPL website. So much so that the very sweet librarian at the Montrose branch now gives me an extra four weeks when I check out. Delinquency has its perks.
Jennifer Egan - A Visit From The Goon Squad
Sam Lipsyte - The Ask
Sloane Crosley - How Did You Get This Number
Jaron Lanier - You Are Not A Gadget
So there's that. In sum, this year could have been worse. The next could be better. At this precise moment, this is all the emotional equivalent of a warm washcloth. I call it lethargic Zen.
Favorite songs of 2010:
I spent a good two months listening only to acoustic stuff (I am the child of hippie parents), but eventually I came back around to the godless ways of electric instruments. Despite being a Houston band, I never got to see Indian Jewelry play live, something I plan to remedy in 2011. And I know the Beach House album was everyone's favorite of the year way back in January, but to be honest, my only exposure to it came over Thanksgiving when I heard "Norway" in a bar on the Upper East Side. And since then I've listened to it approximately 15 times a day. So it gets a spot on the list.
Phosphorescent - The Mermaid Parade
Warpaint - Undertow
Phantogram - Mouthful of Diamonds
Massive Attack - Paradise Circus
Interpol - Lights
Indian Jewelry - Excessive Moonlight
Beach House - Norway
Pacific Ocean Fire - You Were A Boxer
Hey! A handy mixtape!
Favorite movies:
Netflix Instant improved my quality of life approximately ten-fold (data not shown), so I didn't have much use for "the cinema". I'm pretty sure The Town was the only movie I saw all year, so... Seriously though, it was great. You can keep making gritty dramas about downtrodden blue-collar Bostonians forced into a life of crime and I will continue to love them and hiss into whoever's ear is closest that that's Copley Square and I've been to that Au Bon Pain.
Favorite books:
My library card's been getting a lot of use lately, along with the "pay fines online" button on the HPL website. So much so that the very sweet librarian at the Montrose branch now gives me an extra four weeks when I check out. Delinquency has its perks.
Jennifer Egan - A Visit From The Goon Squad
Sam Lipsyte - The Ask
Sloane Crosley - How Did You Get This Number
Jaron Lanier - You Are Not A Gadget
So there's that. In sum, this year could have been worse. The next could be better. At this precise moment, this is all the emotional equivalent of a warm washcloth. I call it lethargic Zen.
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