1) Blogreader Dan has started this lovely service to bring farmer’s market vegetables right to your door! Check it, Mew Paltzians.
2) My sweetheart’s primary employer is so fucking rad. We’ve known this forever, of course, but this open letter he wrote to his AZ promoter defending his Arizona boycott (as part of the Sound Strike effort*) clinches it. Dude can write, yo. And has a great heart. How nice to work for people you respect, you know?
3) 90 beagles freed from a lab (because the pharmaceutical company that wanted to test on them couldn’t pay its bills!) in Wallkill, 20 minutes or so from me, and currently looking for homes. Check it. The dudes are “estimated to be 3-5 years old, had lived their entire lives in small cages, isolated from other dogs.” Makes you sick, right? I’ve been fighting against useless (and check the science: it is pretty much all useless) animal testing since I was in fucking middle school (though yeah, my animal rights activism has lapsed for the past decade or so, sigh), and has it gotten any better?
(Can’t take a dog? What about one of the cutest kittens ever? [Go read that post of Kara's even if you aren't in the kitteh marketplace--man oh man, my friend, I feel ya.])
4) Let us comfort ourselves with the arts. Last week I listened to the audiobook of the aforementioned A Visit From the Goon Squad–so wonderful! So clever, well-written, full of heart and wit and brains. A dash of Salinger, a touch of Margaret Atwood, a bit of Nick Hornby, and all perfection. What a treat. Now I’m listening to Alex & Me (about the good kind of animal testing, though a kind some animal rights peeps would definitely still have problems with) and it’s simply delightful.
(I am now, apparently, a person who uses phrases like “what a treat” and “simply delightful.” Hmm.)
5) Check out this Icelandic politician prankster anarchist dude.
6) Did you see that documentary recently about fracking (I’m sorry, I am in love with the word “fracking.” What an awesome word for such a horrible crime!)? The director was on The Daily Show, too. Stopping this fracking ridiculousness is, I can see already, going to take up a significant chunk of my future activist life, as it’s looming on New York State like…well, like late-stage capitalism looms down on working-class people. Horribly. Casting shadows of fear, all that. Here’s a good Facebook page with info, and here’s what you should be doing right now.
7) I just ordered three of these ludicrous tote bags, even though not one week ago my sweetheart said to me: “Do you know that you probably own 200 tote bags?” Yes, OK, but most of those are either ones he got on tour that say boring things like “SXSW 2009,” or are shopping bags, which everyone knows are totes different and don’t count, or are scroungy, as all the good totes tend to get even if you wash ‘em, or whatever whatever. The point is: I own no tote bags that say “Vegan Means I’m A Sex Machine.” So there we are. (Well…now I own three.)
8) How much longer can I ramble on so I don’t have to do actual work? Should I order this romper on Etsy? Can’t decide. I think I’m into rompers now. Also, perhaps, jumpsuits. This one is going to be too big in the bust, I can tell. I recently bought a too-girly bag on Etsy because I had just bought a Volkswagen and it said it had some sort of vintagey Volkswagen decal on it (which of course fell off in shipping) and now I am sort of a person who carries around a fucking purse, so I’m trying to be a bit more cautious about Etsy-ing (lest I buy a Regretsy!). (It mostly lives in the car, to be honest, and I take stuff out as needed and put it into one of the 200 tote bags that also live in the car.)
What the fuck kind of face am I making??
Wow, I’ve done a great job avoiding work. Such a great job that it’s time for sleep! Thanks, blog!
Oh, but first let me tell you this not-funny and utterly useless story. Yesterday, the aforementioned boytoy came into my kitchen and proceeded to make himself a “pain au chocolat” consisting of two slices of half-stale sourdough bread with a huge chunk of chocolate in between. Not warmed, so the chocolate was not melty at all or anything. Does this seem weird to anyone else? (But then again, he does the pb jar thing too. His eating habits are strange to me.) I was making fun of him for this (“This is your idea of a sandwich? You’re so bizarre. You’re going to chip your tooth on that huge chunk of hard chocolate. The textures are not lined up! Chocolate too hard, bread too soft!”), when today I noticed that I’d been cooking all day while eating a huge disc of pure rosemary-sea salt caramel. Just taking huge mouthfuls of it at a time. Like a caramel sandwich. Without the bread.
Jesus Christ. Tomorrow I’m eating dulse and nothing else.
Love and trace minerals,
*Which, uh, I’ve been participating in since July of 1996, so can I get a medal or something?