rosy-fingered dawn has quit her chemo
THE TWO BEST THINGS I HAVE SAID THUS FAR TODAY
1. Starlight is so suburban.
2. How can we interest venture capitalists in our Mexican pancake house?
WHAT I WISH IT SAID IN MY JOB DESCRIPTION
The Managing Editor will: Hire, train, and supervise a team of copy editors; review numerous iterations of manuscripts; coordinate the monitoring and tracking of articles through all stages of production; research points of style; make annotations in the paraffin sky; and freak a funky beat like that shit was in a blender.
A BRILLIANT MARKETING PLAN
Mr T should endorse more products. Like Mr T tampons: “For when you gots the heavy flow, fool!” I think his image should appear on the box, and possibly even on the wrappers, but I think we should draw the line at the applicators or the tampons themselves. Don't you agree?
Disturbingly realistic scenes from The Brick Testament. (I guess it's work-safe. Unless maybe you work at Legoland.)
One of my favorite James Joyce quotes, which I was reminded of today: Come forth Lazarus! And he came fifth and lost the job. You can find more here, including some really pretty ones from Finnegan's Wake.
COOL WORDS PLEASE USE THEM IN A SENTENCE
WHINE MOAN COMPLAIN, IN ASCENDING ORDER OF PATHETICNESS
1. I need a new bag. I have needed a new bag for a while now. I need a bag that is large enough to carry all of my stuff (which includes several dorky electronic devices and at least one library book at all times) but that is not so huge as to look ridiculous. I want a bag that has lots and lots of compartments because I can't stand a dark bottomless cavern of a bag. I want a bag that is at least vaguely stylish and has some sort of zippered thing ON THE FRONT where I can stick my transit card. I hate backpacks and I hate classic messenger bags that don't have exterior pockets because why would you want to have to undo everything just to grab the keys or the cigarettes or the beer money or the transit card? The upshot of my sad-ass bellyaching is that I did a lot of careful bag research, and ordered a bag from the internet (because I hate to shop), and even just carrying it for half a day I can tell that it is Not The Bag For Me, and now I have the dilemma of sending it back or giving it away or just throwing it in the closet and pretending it never happened. Grrr. (Side note: the bag I carried all through high school and most of college was chosen partly for its style and function and partly for its inexplicability: it was a black rubbery briefcase thing with a silver metal tag that said WARNING 20,000 VOLTS OKAY FOR YOU.)
2. It rained all over the place, I no longer have a decent umbrella, everyone at work seems to be vying for Best Supporting Fuckhead in the Be Mean To Mimi Smartypants award category, my microphone has developed a weird hiss so there goes my entertainment source tonight (addicted as I am to goofing around with sound editing software), and I am currently being deprived of serotonin or something because there's a little cold dark gooey center in me (like runny [soul-] batter in an underdone [self-] muffin) that really would rather just die. It's not a sad despairing sort of suicide urge, more just a frustrated, “Oh fuck THIS,” suicide urge. And of course there's the usual guilt because I have nothing to complain about: LT not only made me pancakes but drove me to the train this morning, and I am listening to nice music, and I got more sleep than usual last night. Somebody please hit me over the head with a rubber chicken and make me stop being such an emotional twerp.
PERGOLA, QUOINS, FINIAL
People who have dreams featuring or involving specific types of architecture amaze me. I am 100% unspatial so any three-dimensional space in my dreams is always rendered on an intensely intimate level: interiors, staircases, caves, etc. Often my dreams are quite vivid when it comes to the position of people in that interior space (he stood right there and said this, I sat over here and said that). But I've never in my remembered life had a dream about a particular building or thought “oh, over there is a Queen Anne with a dormer window” or anything like that.
—mimi smartypants mumbles in her sleep.