So many things we haven’t talked about.
The world is ending in about a hundred ways more than usual, and I’ve been assiduously ignoring it, at least on this little corner of the internet. I’m sure you’re all appropriately depressed/ragey/panicked about oil spills, homophobic gay politicians, Goldman Sachs, Kate Hudson’s breast implants (which, to be honest, are depressing me out of all proportion), Noam Chomsky being denied entry into Israel (Best quote ever: “In a telephone interview with Channel 10, Chomsky said the interrogators had told him he had written things that the Israeli government did not like. ‘I suggested [the interrogator try to] find any government in the world that likes anything I say,’ he said.”) , Arizona, Arizona, Arizona, Arizona, whether or not Supreme Court justices are allowed to have sex, etc ad nauseum.
In lieu of talking about all that, here’s some less interesting and much less useful crap that’s been happening in my head.
I listened to Sarah Silverman’s new book while cooking this week and totally adored it. Out of all proportion to its awesomeness, perhaps. I think I had low expectations because I don’t really share her toiletty humor. I’d forgotten that everything else about her I madly madly adore. It was funny, (obviously), feminist (obviously), and way more witty and radical and full of heart than I expected. Awesome.
Then, Audible.com suggested that I listen to David Cross’s newish book next and, adoring Tobias Fünke like any other sane person, I used up a valuable audible book credit on it, which I instantly realized was a major mistake. I like his comedy, his atheism, his hardcore individualism, and his voice, but the book was completely fluff. I should have read the reviews first. I expected autobiography (it’s called “I Drink for a Reason,” after all), but I got rough draft monologues repeating themes of his I’ve heard over and over. Meh. (Parenthetically [though do you really think it’s OK to say “parenthetically” if you’re in parentheses?? Oh! Now I have to put on “Parentheses“!] I also think David Cross would be sort of a dick to hang out with, don’t you? I wish that didn’t matter to me. Alas. Jacob once got an offer to tour manage some comedy tour he was on, but he couldn’t do it and now I will probably never know the truth about him and am reduced to slandering him on the internet.)
Happily, I have the Virginia Woolf bio written by Nigel Nicolson (son of Virginia’s lover Vita Sackville-West!) ready to go for next week. Phew.
Also I wore really awesome outfits this week—three great outfit days in a row, isn’t that the best feeling? One of them was basically this outfit, which caused bootie-hating Brittany to tease me unrepentantly (though she did repent in the end! I win!). Actually, I literally wore a melange of things on that page: jean short shorts, an awesome black XL shirt I sewed into an awesome little long shirt/short dress, and yummy grey heeley ankle booties I got at, of course, Cow Jones! It was awesome awesome.
I didn’t take any outfit pix this week because the app on my phone that used to allow me to set a timer on the camera so I could take outfit photos myself magically disappeared and I feel so idiotic when I ask Jacob to take a picture of my outfits that I almost don’t want to live, so just use your imagination.
Eew, that was sort of creepy. Don’t use your imagination.
Maybe I should just delete this weird paragraph.
The New Paltz School Board election is today, and I have a lot of thoughts, all of which are useless after the polls close tonight, so I will skip that whole fiasco, which I truly believe it is because why is it that no matter how teeny tiny the election, every politician, no matter how unprofessional or new to the game, automatically knows how to NEVER SAY ANYTHING ABOUT ANY ISSUE THAT VOTERS TRULY CARE ABOUT? You should have read the corporate doublespeak that these people were spewing out. “Community-building,” “track record of problem solving,” “balancing the needs of the schools and the community” “outreach” “THINKING OUTSIDE THE BOX” (screams all mine), OK, fine. But do you think kids should be given condoms so that when they fuck, which they ARE, they don’t get pregnant or STDs, and do you admit that DARE doesn’t work, and will you work to reform the fucked up property tax system that’s killing all of us even though I know you really don’t have power to change it, and do you think school administrators make too much and janitors make too little, and and and. Truly astonishing. I posted a few questions about the DARE program and condoms in schools to the Facebook page of one of the candidates, Bob Rich, and not only was it not answered, it was removed!
But he’ll win anyway. Grr.
Holy shit. I thought my tortie cat Cleo was sitting on my lap, then she hopped up on the desk and before I realized that actually it was all-black Sula sitting there all along I got super freaked out like Cleo had replicated or something. Phew. Scary. Now I’m trying to get them both to sit in the chair with me, via the time-tested finger wiggly method. Hard work happening over here!
There are also two GIANT HUGE things happening behind the scenes in my life, neither of which I can publicly discuss (one of which I’ve already whined about) and the wait to see how they are both going to go down is absolutely killing me. And no, I’m not pregnant or getting married, you sick fuck.
No cats on lap.
The Mad Men website has all these awesome behind the scenes clips you can watch while you’re so highly anticipating the new season!!!
[Insert long rant about WHY THE FUCK AM I WATCHING THIS HULU SHOW CALLED “IF I CAN DREAM”? IT IS THE MOST FUCKED-UP THING I HAVE YET TO LAY MY POOR TIRED JADED EYEBALLS ON AND I THINK IT IS KILLING MY VERY SOUL YET I CANNOT NOT WATCH IT BECAUSE IT GETS DELIVERED TO MY DAMN HULU QUEUE EVERY DAMN WEEK AND WHEN YOU’RE JUST SITTING THERE CHOPPING ONIONS IT APPEARS YOU WILL WATCH ANYTHING OH MY GOD SOMEONE HELP ME THE CORPORATE TIE INS AND ED HARDY CLOTHES AND WRIST CUFFS AND MEN WEARING PINKY RINGS AND HAIR GEL AND BULLSHIT WAY THE POOR KIDS WHO JUST WANT TO LIVE OUT THEIR DUMB LITTLE DREAMS OF BEING SUPERMODELS ARE LIONS THROWN INTO THE GIANT MAW OF LOS ANGELES DOUCHITUDE AND THE WHOLE THING IS BURNING ME ALIVE FROM THE INSIDE OUT AND I’M ON FIRE HELP HELP HELP HELP here]
You’ve all read The Sexual Politics of Meat, right? Remember the image on the cover? Prepare to die when you see this. My pal Marla pointed it out to me, and I half want to paste it to Carol Adams’ Facebook wall, but can’t bring myself to break it to such a hero of mine that the world she works for all day every day has come to this.
OK, I’m off to vote and then eat Indian food.
Love and other indoor sports,