A man wearing what were, from the front, normal tan pants, approximately the color of his skin… and from the back were painted to look like he was wearing a thong. By which I mean, only a thong.
“What are you going to be for Halloween?”
“Naked from the back.”
Huh???
And despite how mean I am to him*, I love him too.
* Have I mentioned before on-blog how my favorite activity at home is to say really mean things to Cooper, in a really nice tone of voice? “Hello, you terrible dog! You are a maker of trouble! You do nothing but create problems for me and other people! Look at you wag your tail like you think that’s okay! You think you can get by on being cute, but your looks won’t last forever! You’ll see!” Like that.
Other times I tell him about how he’s a mediocre dog, perfectly acceptable, but nothing special like he seems to think he is. (Which, obviously, is false. Look at him! So special!) Now that I’m writing this out, I’ve become positive that I picked it up from Peter Cameron.
I have long stated that my aspirations in life were to acquire a dishwasher, a washer-dryer, a massage chair, and a spice grinder. The past two weeks have seen half of those items crossed off my list.
Less cool? When the Walgreens cashier who rang me up (“I fell for your damn demo,” I announced cheerfully as I placed the portable massage chair on the counter) told me how she uses this same brand every night at home. “Yeah, I just go home, take an Ibuprofen, and sit in that thing,” she explained of her evening routine. Please don’t let that become me.
Also? Grinding spices is tiring. Damn toasted cumin.
That’s what my step instructor said in class. It’s not what you most want to hear your step instructor say.
I haven’t seen the WTWTA movie yet (can’t wait. And I want to see to CLOUDY & A CHANCE OF MEATBALLS too. And I never go to children’s movies). But I think this is an interesting short review even though I got sort of lost in the argument:
But this isn’t a coming–of-age movie. In the final scene, it’s joyously unclear whether Max has learned anything from his adventure. One thing that is clear is that, whether scary or sad or belligerent, children should see this movie if for no other reason than as an antidote to movies made by men who want them to grow up.
One reason I think I love YA books so much is that I truly love coming-of-age stories. But I’m interested in the idea that stories about younger kids maybe shouldn’t all be about growing up, but about simply being the age that they portray. You know, the Ramona books are always my gold standard for anything, but I’m now wondering if this is one reason why.
Actually, even in a lot of the YA I love, it sometimes bothers me that the teenagers are like little adults (I’m thinking of Sarah Dessen’s protagonists here, but this is something that bugs me all the time). They have adolescent lives — particularly, they’re under their parents’ control in certain respects — but they have a level of emotional maturity that some of us… lacked. Not that they don’t make mistakes, but they aren’t particularly adolescent mistakes. I’ve been reading so much lately about adults who read YA (like me!), and I wonder how much of this is driven by YA that isn’t really about adolescence at all, except as a metaphor.
Dude, I’m crushing on a non-analytical capitalist.
Said with an appropriate amount of self-disdain; followed by emphatic drinking of wine.
Her ideas of what makes a good illustration for a children’s book are different from those of children.
– Steve Hely, HOW I BECAME A FAMOUS NOVELIST
That’s from a very funny passage in a very funny book. I kept wanting to sic Editorial Anonymous on the characters producing the illustrated children’s book PRUDENCE WHIDDIECOMB: THE GIRL COOPER.
I forgot to type the Wednesday Words I’d picked, or bring the book to school with me today, so Thursday is the new Wednesday. In the meantime, here’s…
Chants from the National Equality March
Chant fragments I wish I could remember the rest of:
Anyone else there hear other good ones?
* The Barney Frank chants are because he basically denounced the march, saying “the only thing they’ll be putting pressure on is the grass.” Yeah, people were pissed.
… and considering that was 18 hours (each way!) of bus ride full of giddy college students, there was a lot of competition in this category.
This is from one of the regularly occurring automated announcements in one of the rest stops:
At the end of the night, you might not be able to perform brain surgery. But you will be able to say you stayed at a Holiday Inn Express!
Um, right. In other news… 200,000 beautiful people, y’all.
From Jennifer Donnelly’s THE TEA ROSE:
“It’s never been alright. Not since the day I walked up these stairs and walked away from you. I ‘urt you that day, I know I did, but all you lost was me. I ‘urt myself a million times worse because I lost you.”
From MY SO-CALLED LIFE’s should’ve-been-penultimate episode (damn you, “Weekend”), “The Betrayal”:
Angela: Look, I don’t care anymore, okay? So just go away.
Rayanne: You’re not the only one who got hurt.
Angela: Well, forgive me if I can’t feel sorry for you, Rayanne.
Rayanne: You lost nothing, Angela. You lost a lousy, selfish friend, a guy you never really had… you lost nothing! …. I lost a really good friend! I lost everything.
And then comes the part where I cry and cry. It’s better on the show than in the book.
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