I wished I had a camera yesterday because as I was leaving the glamorous confines of SUBWAY on Eighth Avenue after partaking of a delightful fresh value meal lunch, my eyes did witness a derelict looking man walking around with a large sandwich board (which was, in the crazy wind, unfortunately leaping off his back and smacking the back of his head, sometimes staying in place like a headboard) and handing out flyers. I peered in to see what he was advertising in such a self-destructive fashion, and, on both front and back, the sandwich board had a list of beauty services available, apparently, around the corner, and these included eyebrow threading and BIKINI WAXING, specifically of the Brazilian variety. Can you imagine making a decision to get waxed Brazilian style based on a sandwich board some weird guy was parading outside the Subway on Eighth Avenue? I feel even more horrified at the thought after reading this. Silicone! In their faces!
In other news, on Monday night I met my old friend Stephanie, who was my roommate many moons ago in Los Angeles, when she was working at a fancy film agency and yours truly was studying Dante, and we had sushi and white wine in her apartment and it turns out that she has just become a member of the Columbia Club, which means CHEAP SQUASH COURTS and tho I have only played squash a few times I DID used to play racquetball every day, in high school and college, and at various times after, and I always loved it because it is fun and not boring, but in cities it is too expen$$ive to play, and even tho squash is not the same thing as racquetball and you use a weird hard ball that's like the thing in your computer mouse, beggars can't be choosers and it's close enough. So now Stephanie and I are going to play once a week. And my ex boyfriend Jim, who is a professional squash player among other things, is visiting me this summer, and even tho I will obviously be a squash genius by then I will demand that he give me lessons anyway. And then I might possibly become superhuman.
In other news, last night I met my friend David and now we are going to re-start our exclusive weekly NOIR WRITING CLUB. There is nothing like some flat-out healthy competition as well as heightened shame factor to make one produce and at the moment I am all about being productive--tho not reproductive, mind you--and I want to finish novel #3 this summer. I have 150 pages of that manuscript but have not worked on it in monttthhhs.
Finally, I would like to say that I hated Zodiac. The killing scenes are quick and boring and then it's 50000 hours of them trying to solve a case THAT WE ALREADY KNOW WAS NEVER SOLVED. Plus, I don't like Jake Gyllenhall's moon face and when I see him with kids I don't believe it as he looks five years old himself and like he needs to wipe his nose.
Oh, one more thing. I have a real thing for the scent of cinnamon and cloves, as I have attested, and I have now discovered an entire line of products based around it. Words cannot express the longing that has blossomed in my heart and possibly even soul as a result.
In other news, on Monday night I met my old friend Stephanie, who was my roommate many moons ago in Los Angeles, when she was working at a fancy film agency and yours truly was studying Dante, and we had sushi and white wine in her apartment and it turns out that she has just become a member of the Columbia Club, which means CHEAP SQUASH COURTS and tho I have only played squash a few times I DID used to play racquetball every day, in high school and college, and at various times after, and I always loved it because it is fun and not boring, but in cities it is too expen$$ive to play, and even tho squash is not the same thing as racquetball and you use a weird hard ball that's like the thing in your computer mouse, beggars can't be choosers and it's close enough. So now Stephanie and I are going to play once a week. And my ex boyfriend Jim, who is a professional squash player among other things, is visiting me this summer, and even tho I will obviously be a squash genius by then I will demand that he give me lessons anyway. And then I might possibly become superhuman.
In other news, last night I met my friend David and now we are going to re-start our exclusive weekly NOIR WRITING CLUB. There is nothing like some flat-out healthy competition as well as heightened shame factor to make one produce and at the moment I am all about being productive--tho not reproductive, mind you--and I want to finish novel #3 this summer. I have 150 pages of that manuscript but have not worked on it in monttthhhs.
Finally, I would like to say that I hated Zodiac. The killing scenes are quick and boring and then it's 50000 hours of them trying to solve a case THAT WE ALREADY KNOW WAS NEVER SOLVED. Plus, I don't like Jake Gyllenhall's moon face and when I see him with kids I don't believe it as he looks five years old himself and like he needs to wipe his nose.
Oh, one more thing. I have a real thing for the scent of cinnamon and cloves, as I have attested, and I have now discovered an entire line of products based around it. Words cannot express the longing that has blossomed in my heart and possibly even soul as a result.
posted by Carolyn Turgeon at
8:13 AM
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