(This most awesome typo in the entire universe might have been written by Andy at Taliaferro Farms, who had a minor heart attack yesterday. Jacob & I learned of this sad event this morning when we were taking a walk past Taliaferro’s and Pete Taliaferro was picking flowers to bring to Andy’s hospital room. Best wishes and good energies and lots of love to sweet Andy!)
Ultra ultra randomness, go!!
(Nothing about Iran here, although I am following the story with a horrible fascination and ultra ultra sadness/hope/outrage. Sigh.)
Has anyone been to this new pizza place in Los Feliz? If you go, tell me all about the cheese!
I’m thinking about making these bags, how awesome do they look? I have oodles of nice black hemp bags for groceries, but I get so tired of all those fiddly little produce bags.
As someone who has never received literally one dollar from her parents (and, well, let’s not talk about how often money has flowed the other way), the only consolation I have for my bootstrappin’ is loathing—with an unhealthy, bitter horrible bile—people who continue to take their parents’ cash. (It’s not that I wouldn’t do the same, but life is what it is, and what it is that I am bitter, OK?) Enter the NYT, with a “look at this quirky thing that’s happening because of the recession” story that made my awful heart just dance dance dance. Trustafarian Williamsburg hipsters—die die die!! (I don’t want the people to die, I want their trustie ways to die, got it?). The last time I was in Williamsburg I almost died from the American Apparel/hipster stink, and can’t wait for it to get the fuck over itself. (Every time I mention hipstery Williamsburg to my mother she says, “But–where are all the Hasids?” I keep telling her to listen to this This American Life.)
This story led me to this UTTERLY TERRIFYING site, and I just haven’t recovered yet. “Reborn” babies, people. Their weird monkey faces are haunting my dreams already (not because monkeys are scary, because babies are scary because they…oh, you get it). I love my friend Aaron’s take on them:
Its nice to know that “there is NO SAND in this baby” just “extra fine glass granules” (aka sand)
This is actually the perfect baby for you to experience the joys of motherhood.
At first I thought it was a christian thing -reborn [Oh, I think it has to be!]….not a bad idea though: a doll that has already sinned before birth and thus needs to immediately be reborn.
Should I, as the head of a local GP chapter, not admit that this sounds like a perfectly dreadful workshop? “Spend a weekend sharing ideas and skills for sustainable living and Green politics with fellow Greens from across New York and adjoining states…
Learn how to build your own wind turbine, make tofu, grow nut trees, make poetry and build an earth oven.” Um, will there be anything about politics at all? Or will it just be MAKING TOFU? I mean, I’m a vegan chef who has made tofu on several occasions and even I am willing to admit that that sounds ridiculous. To be fair, the website for the event (which I will not link to lest it leads me to being outed as a Green Party person who is irked by the Green Party 99% of the time) does look like it has some interesting political talk, and I really shouldn’t complain if I’m not willing to lift even one pinkie to make it a more radical (on all levels) event. I admit I’m not being fair, but come on, Greenies! How can we expect to be taken seriously as a political party if we’re “making poetry and building an earth oven” at our strategy sessions? And if the organizers felt that they had to advertise it that way to draw a crowd—maybe that strategy needs some discussion too.
Over at Jezebel, Beth Ditto [insert crush here] perfectly articulates how I often feel at various townie meetings in New Paltz (for different reasons than she does—mine are blue hair and awesome outfits and empty womb, etc.): “Of visiting the runway collections in Paris, she says: ‘I’m the only one there who looks like me. Everyone else just looks the same, so think about the joy of that.'” YES!
It’s not that everyone in NP looks the same, not at all, it’s just that I often feel that no matter how differently everyone else looks from each other, I still somehow look different from them, in all their diversity. Does that make sense? It’s maybe childish that I enjoy that. I’ve been using hair color and clothes to show that I’m NOT YOU for most of my life now, and sometimes I wish I’d just grow out of it. On the other hand…that would mean wearing Crocs.
(I feel sorta weird comparing my voluntary appearance choices to Ditto’s at least somewhat involuntary appearance, suddenly. Anyway, the point is: <3 <3 <3 Beth Ditto. That’s all that matters.)