Weekend

It was kind of a weird weekend. I left work on Friday to buy tickets at the Angelika for Transsiberian, then spent a couple hours wading through a bunch of journal articles for my upcoming “midterm” paper (a bit of a misnomer, since it’s due two weeks before the final, but whatever). Thankfully, the Angelika’s cafe is large and has much seating, and I got an Orangina and sipped happily for a couple of hours.

The film itself wasn’t earth-shattering, but it was solid, and to our surprise, there was a Q&A afterwards with Brad Anderson, the writer & director. I am always annoyed at the end of Q&As in an relatively open forum. It’s not so much that people ask stupid questions as that they like to hear themselves talk. But, it was interesting. Anderson also directed The Machinist (also known as “the film for which Christian Bale lost an obscene amount of weight”) and he certainly has the whole indie director thing going on. He’s gotten a lot of funding from European countries - something worth exploring, I think. We headed to Angela’s afterward to hang out with some friends of hers who were visiting from Madrid (Spanish and Italian) and eat yummy pear mousse tart from Claude’s.

After a brunch on Saturday, I took off for midtown to interview an artist for an upcoming profile article, then went downtown to work on my midterm. The interview was interesting - her work is great - but the midterm was a dismal failure. I started writing one thing and wound up the afternoon by switching topics. It’s due a week from today, which would not normally be a problem, except there are many things going on this week and a wedding on Saturday. Oops. Wound up the day with the Zoae Series, a thoroughly enjoyable evening of music, performance poetry, and slightly sardonic art.

Yesterday I woke up feeling more exhausted than usual, and Tom decided we should stay home and relax, for which I was rather grateful. We made waffles and spent the day relaxing and resting, which is appropriate, I suppose, for the Sabbath. I’m very grateful; while I’m not exactly bouncing off the walls today, I don’t feel like crawling under my desk, and I’m accomplishing things. Hurrah!

We’ve yet to see “The Dark Knight”, and it’s looking like we may not this week either. On the bright side, that means we may get to see it at an IMAX theater when we do!

A picnic with 60,000 of your closest friends

The Philharmonic concert last night was brilliant. Perfect weather, sixty thousand people, and fireworks. The music was ideal for a summer night on the lawn. Tom made delicious tabouli and brought some thinly-cut prosciutto to eat it with, and big, juicy strawberries for dessert, accompanied by a bottle of New Zealand pinot noir (apparently a new thing for the Kiwis). It was fabulously relaxing, and I felt rather pampered as I nibbled strawberries and listened to Beethoven.

This, folks, is why we live here.

Hello World ::tap tap::

Well, I’m back at work today, after a not-nearly-long-enough vacation at home. We went to the Coney Island beach and ate mangos; finished Six Feet Under; watched A Streetcar Named Desire, Lust, Caution, Hellboy 2 (apparently I just don’t like Del Toro), and a lot of The Simpsons; ate at home a bit; did our laundry; and basically tried to stay as low-key as possible. I also had H.G. Wells’ Tono-Bungay to read for class on Monday night, which I finished just in time.

We also dropped by the Apple store yesterday to see if we could get iPhones. Let me back up here; I haven’t planned on getting an iPhone, since I have a Blackberry (for work) and a cell phone and both work perfectly well, and I’ve become increasingly averse to bandwagon-jumping in my old (snort) age. Tom, on the other hand, really has a legitimate business need for a data phone, and after copious amounts of research, he concluded that an iPhone would be the best bet. So, he has been planning to get one. After running the numbers and taking into account a few as-yet extenuating factors, we realized that it would be cheaper, in the long run, for us both to jump to AT&T and get iPhones (8GB for me, 16GB for him) now, rather than waiting and keeping a contract with both companies.

So then, yesterday - you know, four days after the device’s release - we arrived at the Apple store only to find the line wrapped around the block and stretching several more blocks north. Yeah. Right. We popped by the AT&T store, which didn’t have any phones and said to come back in the morning. It’s across from my office, so we went by early this morning and waited until they opened. They don’t have any iPhones, they don’t know if they’ll have any iPhones today or indeed any other day. By this point, I was getting frustrated, envisioning my life in the next few weeks as a futile attempt to get an iPhone. Solution: we ordered them. Should have them within a week. Shiny new gadgets, woohoo.

Far more information than you wanted to know. But I’ll bet a few bucks that the iPhone craze in New York is more ridiculous here than anywhere else. Anyone have similarly insane reports?

I have a scarily long and sordid to-do list this week, mostly due to a concentration of articles and papers in the near future. But tonight, I am taking my reading to Central Park for the Philharmonic’s other concert in that park (they were in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park last night). Tom is meeting me with a blanket, a bottle of wine, and some food. Tonight they play Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1, Beethoven’s Symphony No. 4, and Sibelius’s Finlandia. Lang Lang is the pianist. Hopefully we can get near the front, since it’s just the two of us.

A few collected links:

- From Papercuts, the NYTimes book blog: The Perfect Novel

- New rules about shooting on New York City streets.

- The Knitting Factory, a Lower East Side institution, is heading to Brooklyn and westward.

- Why more authors should be blogging.

- The aesthetics of buzz in the dining room.

- Art in the Berkshires. First stop: The Clark Art Museum, in Williamstown, Massachusetts. I grew up about forty minutes away from here, on the New York side, but didn’t spend too much time in the museum, unfortunately. Williamstown is great. If I’d been thinking harder, I probably would have tried to go to Williams College.

- Supplies of rice, corn, and wheat - crops that yield half the world’s food calories - could shrink dramatically by 2050.

- The monster collection of Moleskine tips, tricks, and hacks, especially useful for Moleskine newbies. I own too many Moleskines.

Wednesday

I arrived without incident in DC around 2pm on Thursday. Let me now recommend Bolt Bus; we were a little late, but the ride was direct, the bus was pleasant, and there was free Wi-Fi on board. Oh, and it was cheap.

Liz was our fabulously gracious hostess for the entire trip; we hung out with her and various friends all weekend. We saw Wall-E (again for Liz and me, first time for Tom and Angela), as well as Wanted (well, it’s not great cinema, but lots of things blow up and it’s visually awesome). We went to the Newseum and were duly shellshocked by the Pulitzer Prize Photojournalism exhibit, which I highly recommend - it’s worth the cost of admission alone. We watched fireworks from a rooftop and ate really good food, notably at Nora, Zaytinya, and the legendary Ben’s Chili Bowl. Tom and I stumbled into the National Portrait Gallery and wished we had a lot more time there. We stayed up very late and were rather raucous and, all in all, had a great time.

We got home Monday around 5:30pm and I dashed off to my 6pm class, for which I’d just finished the readings, and wow, I just love school. It’s so much work and it makes me stressed out but all this reading and discussion and research is invigorating.

Yesterday evening we had a screening of Brideshead Revisited, and I’m happy to say that the trailer is completely misleading and it’s actually very tight with the book. The casting is great (Ben Whishaw continually blows my mind), and the music is beautiful, and it’s really very good. We both were a bit confused by its August 1 release date, since it actually seems like Oscar material. In any case, I’m reviewing it, so I’ll say no more until then.

Tomorrow night, Bret Lott is having a book release party at the IAM space for his upcoming novel, Ancient Highway, and Kelley McRae is opening with a set. I know. I love living in New York. If you’re nearby and want to come, check out the Facebook event.

On the home front, I’m now reading H.G. Wells’ Tono-Bungay for Monday’s class, and we’re finishing Six Feet Under, at long last. We even went grocery shopping yesterday. It’s been a while. I have class again tonight, and then I’m off until Tuesday (thank God for a stay-cation!), so I might not blog too much more this week!

Back

We’ve returned to New York, but I don’t have time to outline all of our pursuits over the past weekend right now. Perhaps later.

Today is kind of like Friday

There was almost no traffic on this blog yesterday, which was confusing until I realized the server was down. Thanks, Dreamhost. We’re back up today.

I head south tomorrow morning for a long weekend in DC, which will involve festivities of various kinds, none of which are very nailed down. Just having a vacation outside the (well, this) city for a few days should be refreshing.

Lastly, this article on being a writer in Brooklyn is kind of awesome, especially this part:

I have a hard time understanding all the hype. I dig it here and all, but it’s just a place. It does not have magical properties. In interviews, I get asked a lot, “What’s it like to write in Brooklyn?” I get invited to do panels with other Brooklyn writers to discuss what it’s like to be a writer in Brooklyn. I expect it’s like writing in Manhattan, but there aren’t as many tourists walking very slowly in front of you when you step out for coffee. It’s like writing in Paris, but there are fewer people speaking French. What do they expect me to say? “Instead of ink, I write in mustard from Nathan’s Famous, a Brooklyn institution since 1916.” “I built my desk out of wooden planks taken from the authentic rubble of Ebbets Field. Have I mentioned how I still haven’t forgiven the Dodgers for moving to Los Angeles?”

Eeeeevuh

After a somewhat harrowing week, I had a lovely weekend at home with my mom, my brother, and his girlfriend. We did some shopping and went to the farmers’ market and ate lots of yummy food and went to Terra Nova.

But we also went to the movies, and so the most important thing I can impress on you is this:

GO SEE WALL-E.

That is all.

Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls

After class ended last night, I met up with Sarah and Matt, friends from forever ago, and a few more recent friends and went to the Brooklyn Bridge. It was a lovely night, and we caught the sunset just right. We walked from the Manhattan side to Brooklyn, then had ice cream at the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory, which sits on the Promenade in Brooklyn Heights and looks directly toward downtown Manhattan. Good ice cream, lovely view.

Though walking across the Bridge leans toward the touristy side, I had a good reason for wanting to go: the aforementioned Waterfalls in the East River, which “opened” yesterday. They are lovely and fascinating to watch, and at night they’re stunning (see the pictures in that article). If this is the future of public art, I heartily approve.

Tom left early this morning to meet up with his father in New Jersey and head south to Virginia. I’ll join him on Thursday. In the meantime, I am traipsing home to Albany tonight, and will be back in town Sunday night, ready to start learning about the modern British novel. I have a seedling of an idea for my paper for that class, which is more than I can usually say. Maybe that means I am starting to catch onto this humanities stuff.

Have a good weekend, and in the meantime, if you are one of the ten people who haven’t, check out Garfield Minus Garfield.

Thursday

Tonight is the conclusion of my class on Moby-Dick. It’s been really interesting, and I’ve learned a lot about reading texts, understanding them in their historical context, considering them through various reference frames, and American in the 1860s, but I can’t say I’ll be sorry to shelve the book after tonight. We’re presenting our final papers - mine is on literary critics, Job, and the twenty-first century reading of Moby-Dick - and then we’re done.

My next class starts on Monday, but in between I am heading Albany-ward to see my family for the weekend and to write frantically on the way up. Thank God for electrical outlets on trains. Tom is going in the opposite direction and will be in the DC/Virginia area for about a week and a half to see his grandpa, other family, and a lot of friends. I’ll be joining him on Thursday.

Yesterday I went uptown on my lunch break and met Tom to see the Olafur Eliasson show at MoMA before it closed. It was fascinating. I especially liked a few pieces where he had film-style spotlights aimed at mirrors so that the spot reflected off the glass and landed in a place on the floor that seems very removed from where the spot would normally fall. Hard to describe, but really cool. I sadly won’t get to see the P.S.1 part of the exhibit, but I’m glad I saw what I did. You can see the online exhibition here.

Speaking of Eliasson, today is the first day of his Waterfalls installation in the East River! I won’t have any trouble seeing that, since I cross the East River at least twice a day to get into Manhattan.

Also, Wall-E comes out this weekend. Please go see it. Pixar is apparently making bold moves with this one, which bodes well for the future of animation. You might find this interview at Christianity Today with Andrew Stanton (Wall-E’s director) interesting.

Grumbling tummy. Must find food.

I return to the land of the living

Hey kids.

Well, what a weekend. I was feeling rather under the weather on Friday, so I took a sick day. I pounded out most of a paper as I sat on the couch and drank copious amounts of water. We don’t really have any food at home - no time to shop lately - but thankfully, our neighborhood is full of wonderfully healthy and moderately-priced eateries, so we had brunch at Olea and dinner at Lil’ Pig. We spent the evening watching Hellboy - the first one - and it was, well, awful, though made a bit better because it does not take itself seriously at all. I’m all for movies with very vague plots, but not in that genre. But I try not to demand much from movies based on comic books; that way, I’m delighted with things like Batman Begins and Iron Man. (By the way, I am totally psyched for The Dark Knight. Moving on.)

I was feeling much better on Saturday, and because I got so much done on Friday I was able to tag along to the Mermaid Parade in Coney Island, along with Tom and a few friends who we met up with there. It was everyone’s first time, and it was certainly . . . interesting. On the one hand, I enjoyed the whole borough pride aspect. Brooklyn is proud to be Brooklyn, diverse, nutty, and happy. People from neighborhoods where you can have a house and garage brought out their antique cars, which were really cool. And some of the costumes were fantastic and well thought out. On the other hand, lots of people like to use marching in the parade as an excuse to get tipsy and wear very little clothing, and that’s their (legal) prerogative, but it gets old after a while and isn’t something I feel the need to experience repeatedly. So it was a one-time must-see event, but probably not one that will get any better year to year, and I don’t think we’ll do it again.

After the parade we went back to our apartment and cooked hamburgers for everyone, which was good fun, and watched trailers for scary movies. An excellent end to a Saturday.

After church on Sunday, we went back out to our ‘hood and had brunch at Red Bamboo, a vegan Thai restaurant (you won’t believe it’s not meat, etc.) with friends and ended up at Brooklyn Flea for a bit, where we did not buy anything but admired lots of things, including some imported and salvaged furniture. We wandered over to Smooch, which I immediately adopted as my coffeeshop, because it has really, really good coffee, great decor, eclectic decor, and a relaxed vibe.

We headed uptown shortly afterwards for the “Jesus Hopped the A Train” benefit reading, which was simply remarkable. Original cast plus Stephen Adly Guirgis, who is fast becoming my favorite playwright because he’s so remarkably profound. His plays are messy and profane, but somehow grace and forgiveness always explicitly slip in.

Our seats were good - on the floor, but near the back - and we were serendipitously seated directly across the aisle from Philip Seymour Hoffman’s perch at the soundboard as director. He still laughs, despite having heard this play and these actors a mind-bogglingly enormous number of times, and it was fun to be that close. I could have reached out and tapped him. He’s the most refreshing kind of famous New Yorker - still strolls around outside the theater and smokes before performances (this was the third time I’d seen him doing it), frequents the same random coffeeshops that I do. When we saw “The Little Flower of East Orange” a couple months ago, he got in an elevator with a bunch of the audience as they were going up to the theater on the third floor. They looked a little thunderstruck.

But! Our brush with celebrity was not complete. Yesterday I woke up with one of those stark-raving-mad headaches, and as this is not a week in which I can afford to be sick, I called in sick again and slept in very late. I had a dull headache all day, even after lunch at Pequena down the block, but I worked a little more on my paper and then went to class.

After class I took a few painkillers and dashed across town to met up with Tom at Madison Square Garden for the Coldplay concert. Coldplay gave away all 30,000 tickets for this performance, which was kind of awesome, because it was the first time they’d played through that set, which included a bunch of songs from Viva La Vida as well as some older stuff. They came into the arena seating - three rows behind us!! - and sang “Yellow”. And they didn’t play an encore - vaguely disappointing, but I’m kind of glad. I find encores a little pretentious. Everyone pretends they’re special, but it happens every time. Let’s save the encores for truly spectacular concerts. This one was an experimental concert, they flubbed a bit, but they were good-natured about it and very funny, and everyone enjoyed themselves. The only black mark was the drunken people to our left and in front of us who decided to get into a fight, just short of throwing punches, during “Fix You”, which is probably my favorite song. Oh well.

I’m finally back at work today and swamped, but tonight I’m planning to meet up with our dear friends Sarah and Matt and bring them up to the NY Philharmonic’s free concert in Central Park, as long as it doesn’t get rained out. This is my last week of the Moby-Dick class, and next week starts “Modern British Novel”. I admit that I’m a bit dubious about how I’ll manage to read all eleven novels and write two papers in the six weeks, but they don’t call it a “master’s degree” for nothing, I suppose.

The dark spot on my weekend is that it looks like I won’t get to see Wall-E on its opening night. Alas.

Home, Lars, New York, and Hoomania

I finished Home on Sunday night, and it was magnificent - probably my favorite of her three fiction books, though they’re all spectacular. I was reading some of the press materials that came with it, in which Marilynne Robinson said that Moby-Dick was one of her favorite novels (my professor appreciated that). Her books were also compared to Cormac McCarthy’s Border Trilogy, which I read last year, and that makes perfect sense, though I didn’t realize it until I was reading the article. They both deal with America in the 1950s, and they both write in a somewhat deadpan style (McCarthy far more so) which pleasantly belies the emotion and drama of the story. Robinson, at least, uses punctuation. In any case, do not miss this book when it comes out in September, and you might want to re-read Gilead beforehand - or read it, if you haven’t yet.

We watched Lars and the Real Girl on Sunday night as well, at long last. There were so many good movies in the theater when it came out that we missed it, and we haven’t had much time for movie-watching so far this year. It was great, as everyone said. Ironically, we’d been eating brunch at Tartine earlier that day when Ryan Gosling, very bearded, walked past with a friend. We continually find that life and art intersect in weird ways when you live here.

Which, by the way, reminds me that next week will mark the end of my third year in New York City. I think that makes me an official New Yorker. I no longer need a subway map to get around pretty much anywhere in Manhattan and a lot of Brooklyn’s “brownstone belt”, I don’t need to hold the pole in the subway anymore, I am completely ignorant of gas prices except when they show up on the news, I know the best place to get falafel for $2.50, I no longer venture above 14th Street unless it’s absolutely necessary and kind of turn up my nose at living in Manhattan, I say things like “the city” and “the Times” and expect people to know what I’m talking about, and I walk around saying things like “that used to be that great French cafe” and grumbling at tourists who walk four-across on the sidewalk. In short, I am some combination of the worst stereotype and the actual reality. Oh well. We are all victims of our locations, and this isn’t a bad one. I am so blessed to live here.

Did anyone else out there who grew up in church watch a movie called “Hoomania”? It was about a kid who got sucked into a board game that taught him about the book of Proverbs. There were some gamepieces called “Sluggards”, and a wise owl, and some other crazy characters, and it was partially live-action and partially claymation. I suddenly remembered this movie the other night and wanted to watch it, but it’s out of “print” and I can’t find any clips on YouTube.

Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin

Hello bloglings.

My most notable accomplishment this weekend - besides reading a lot about Zoroastrianism for class - was learning to play Uno last night. It wasn’t that we didn’t play card games when I was a kid (we played a lot of Dutch Blitz), but when we did play games they were usually either educational or something like checkers. So this was fun. I also did well, which is a plus. I still want to take poker back up again.

We had brunch at Lil’ Pig near our apartment. I had a chilled cucumber and avocado soup and a tilapia sandwich with pickled onions on baguette; Tom had gazpacho and I think a cornmeal-encrusted catfish sandwich. Tee-riffic. Not only is the place close, but they serve about fifteen varieties of tea, there’s wine in the evenings, the menu changes daily and is all kinds of local and healthy and innovative, and it’s all pretty reasonably priced. Like Grey Dog, but a little cheaper and with a much more interesting menu.

Tonight, it looks like we’re going to the premiere of the film Tom worked on as first assistant director the summer before we got married. Cool.

A flying howdy

The NYTimes Magazine this Saturday was all about cities, urban planning, and architecture, and it’s definitely worth a look. You can now read the articles online.

I have been unbloggy lately because of busy-ness, but we have, at home, Sam Phillips’ Don’t Do Anything, as well as upcoming book releases by Amanda Petrusich and (gasp) Marilynne Robinson, and we’re currently set to see Sunday in the Park With George on Saturday (Sondheim!), so despite its busy-ness and sometimes its frustrations, life is good.

Monday ramblings

We had a good weekend, filled with friends, family, and some good food. But it’s so hot in New York that nobody seems to be able to talk about anything else. 97 today, before humidity, and, well, the city really smells in that heat. Even after some spectacular thunder and lightning, it hasn’t let up at all.

The heat finally forced me into joining a gym; I can’t breathe in this weather, let alone run in the heat, and it was 80 degrees at 6am today and that’s just too much. So I found the Crunch in our neighborhood, which has a pay-by-the-month plan (i.e., pay only for the months when you want to go), and I joined this morning. Hello, being able to read for class while I’m running, or even watch TV if I’m feeling frazzled. Hello, pilates and yoga. Hello sauna!

Weekend in brief

Don’t worry, weblings, I didn’t forget to blog about the weekend. We spend Saturday having brunch at Stone Park (deeee-lish) with Brandon and Emily, got caught in a downpour on the way back to Fort Greene, watched Brandon install a larger hard drive into Tom’s computer, hung around, went to a stand-up comedy show at the Comic Strip, and hung out afterwards with friends, mostly new, and got home way too late.

And on Sunday, we went to church, then had a wonderful brunch at La Palette - you must try Brazilian eggs benedict before you can say you’ve lived - and went home to watch Mongol for a review (it was great).

It has been non-stop since then, and I think big things are afoot. As I mentioned, Tom is working tonight, but we had a birthday bagel breakfast and I gave him his presents - Maps & Legends by Michael Chabon, Volume One with She & Him (which is M.Ward and Zooey Deschanel and was featured in Paste a while back), the There Will Be Blood soundtrack, Lotta Jansdotter post-its, and a bottle of Macallan 18. I’m awfully grateful that he was born!

Many happy returns . . .

Today is a certain member of this blog URL’s birthday (hint: it’s not me). He has to work late so we have no particular plans, but I think he liked his presents.

BSG Redux

Gregory Wolfe, editor of the delightfully highbrow Image Journal, on Why Battlestar Galactica is So Frakking Great.

See, I told you.

Friday

It hasn’t been a long week, obviously, and it hasn’t been that busy, but I feel like I’ve been too exhausted to really deal with the days and their many frustrations as they come. Oh well. There’s always next week.

Last night, though, was fun - especially Sam Shepard, who is seriously hilarious and told a story about his horse and a movie and a stuntman named Choo-Choo.

We have a full weekend that will hopefully still be a bit of a respite, and I’m excited, because I have a screener for Mongol sitting on the coffee table waiting to be reviewed. And Stone Park for brunch tomorrow, which can make nearly anything better.

Weekender

Akismet tells me it currently has 7,777 spam comments in the queue. Is that ominous or auspicious?

What did you do yesterday? We went to Coney Island, and it was wonderful. We took the subway - about half an hour from where we live - oh YEAH. It’s not exactly a highbrow beach, but then, that’s not what you go to Coney Island for. And it was much nicer than we expected. The boardwalk is short, but has a lovely look out over the beach, which is very wide and sandy with little bits of colored rocks and shells in it - and yes, a little bit of broken glass polished smooth. I stuck my toe (singular) into the water and it was frigid, but I think it probably gets warmer in the later summer, in tandem with the Jersey coast. Big waves.

So we walked the length of the boardwalk, laid out on the windy beach for a bit, then got some good boardwalk-y junk food. Fried clams and shrimp and onion rings, oh my. We went to the Coney Island Sideshow, which, as it turns out, is kind of delightful and low budget, but has bona fide fire eaters and snake handlers and sword swallowers, and the host-guy pounds a nail into his nostril, then a power drill. We were a little enthralled. We left and played video games and shooting-range games and scoped out the rides for a future trip we are planning. They are not cheap, but day passes are. Maybe I’ll even overcome my distaste for being jerked around and go on the Cyclone, because, after all, it’s actually got a sign placed there by the Parks Service.

I am coughing today, which I hope is the remnants of my allergies and maybe a little sand, so I stayed home to work to spare the ears and my lungs. Knocking an hour and a half or so out of my commute isn’t shabby either. I’ve gotten the laundry done in between my workings and will soon embark on the rest of my reading. Tom went to set around 6:30 this morning and has been running around all day. The busy part of his shoot is finally commencing, and he has some weekends coming up. Yay to overtime pay; boo to weekends apart. But that’s life in a film biz household!

Before the long weekend

I love long weekends, though this one is a little too busy for my taste. I have forty chapters of Moby-Dick, half of a biography of Melville, a John Winthrop sermon, and a long article on Calvinism to read for class on Wednesday, and a paragraph to draft on one of the Moby-Dick chapters for Tuesday night, plus a screener of an Iranian film to watch and review. There are also a stack of publisher’s catalogs next to my couch that I need to wade through to find books for the Sept/Oct issue of RELEVANT. Oh, and Indy 4 out this weekend. I’m not complaining, exactly; I’m just a little tired and the weather is too lovely.

Luckily, the Melville biography is quite interesting. Did you know that he spent many of his growing-up years in the general Albany area? He lived in Albany, Greenbush, and Lansingburgh. Just a like a certain other New York-dwelling writer. :)

Happy Memorial Day, Americans, and everyone have a great weekend!

Sunrise

We, well, once again find ourselves living sans curtains. I think we’re reluctant to put them up now - we have gorgeous windows, and since we’re on the eighth floor we’re already higher up than anyone around and just have a beautiful clear view of east Brooklyn, which is strangely European-looking (kind of a mix between a small village in the UK and some kind of Greek-looking township).

Of course, the sun comes up pretty early these days, as it’s trudging toward the solstice next month, so it’s been waking us up a bit. No worries - Tom’s needed to be up roughly when the sun is lately, so it works out pretty well.

But I wake up then, too, and I have been completely astonished by how beautiful the sky has been. And it changes color, too - sometimes the sunrise is pink, sometimes it’s red, sometimes blue, occasionally yellow.  It’s beautiful. Almost worth waking up for.

Grilling, yum.

We have watched two real classics in the last two evenings - Fast Times at Ridgemont High and Groundhog Day. Yes, I am catching up with all kinds of 80s-90s-era comedies. Andie MacDowell, where did you go?

I also grilled lamb skewers from Whole Foods yesterday, which ended up being slightly less awesome than they should have been (the cut of meat was a little fatty), and also some portobello mushrooms, on our cute smokeless electric grill. But alas, we had no rice, so risotto it was. This seemed far more interesting when I started writing this paragraph.

Meanwhile, my class is small (four students) and seems like it will be interesting. Any class that ends with watching a segment from Animaniacs is bound to have a sense of humor. Plus, we don’t have class on Monday (I become more and more grateful for national holidays each year) and so after tonight it’s already 1/6th over. There was a fairly copious amount of reading to do, but thankfully about twenty-five chapters of it were from Genesis and Jonah, and so it wasn’t overwhelming.

And in related news, grades were posted for last semester, and I got an A. Yay! Auspicious!

Monday

As the Brits say, or at least the televised ones, this was a fab weekend.

We brought visiting globe-trotting Canadians to Lou Lou for brunch on Saturday. Amanda, having been in cuisinely-dubious Scotland for a while, was thrilled to find non-fried things on the menu. The whole meal was great (my veggie burger was made of vegetables of discernable shape and color!), and we brought them by our wee abode before they took off to explore the city more.

We watched the last two episodes of BSG Season 3 (yeah baby) and then headed off to the Zoae Series at the Bowery Poetry Club, which I have to say was one of the more enjoyable Series we’ve been to; the Kevins delighted with a kind of comedic poetry patter act, and we enjoyed Caleb’s music so much that we bought the CD and then went out for a very late, very dark, very Aussie dinner with a herd of people.

Sunday morning’s service included the baptism of some wee ones, and we ducked out a little early to go to an engagement party in Riverdale for our dear friends Alexandra and Dan. Though we had a mix-up and ended up waiting in the rain a bit for a car, we got there and were duly amazed that we were still in the Bronx; beautiful, large, gorgeous houses on amazing plots of land, as if you were tucked away into the country homes you find in New England. Sunshine, greenery, trees, a tiny babbling brook, flowers, colonial architecture, and front porches. It’s heartening to know you can go to these places and then be back in Grand Central in half an hour on the Metro North train, which, incidentally, follows the river the whole way and is sublime in the sunset.

Kittens and puppies

In the continuing Moby-Dick saga, I got an email yesterday with an outline of the class and I think it shall be fascinating. It’s going to include an exploration of the uses of new media in teaching and scholarship, and though that sounds fabulously incongruous, it’s not, as I’m discovering as I actually read the book. Editors have been tweaking and changing Moby-Dick over the years, much as you might tweak, say, a wiki. Also, something about religion in American cultural studies. I can’t believe I almost didn’t take this class. It will be work, but hopefully good work, and I am all about all of the above.

It’s a grey day - so grey, in fact, that I had a cup of coffee when I went out for my break instead of tea. It’s almost the weekend. It wasn’t very good coffee, though. What is Starbucks’ issue with brewed coffee? I tried the Pike Place roast and it was not yummy. I should always stick to Kenyan coffee at Starbucks - granted, I always drink it black, but I maintain that you should not have to add milk to your coffee for it to be drinkable. Milk is for sops.

We watched Enchanted recently and enjoyed it, though I suspect our favorite part may have been seeing all kinds of familiar names in the credits (Tom’s current project is also Disney, and also includes many of the crew). I watched Spellbound last night - oh my word, I am so glad I am not an eighth-grader any more. Actually, come to think of it, I skipped eighth grade. Anyhow, all the braces just made me wince at the remembrance of being a tall, retainer-and-lip-bumper-laden, gawky teenager who talked too much and used big words and got quizzical/patronizing looks from adults. We have only two episodes left in BSG Season 3, which we’ll probably watch very soon. And I’ve been watching Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip on Hulu whenever I can, and man, I am way too in love with that show.

We may get to see Altman’s Thieves Like Us tonight over at Film Forum (love Film Forum!), and tomorrow is brunch with the lovely Amanda, who is in town for a few days from Aberdeen, and the Zoae Series at night. And after church on Sunday, we’re off to an engagement party for two of our favorite people. And then, on Monday, I start the summer session. That was all too short of a break, but then again, I’m kind a junkie for school. Okay, so I’m still a nerd.

Come on Wednesday, we can do this

I am happy to find myself with no more articles to write this week, though I really need to make a dent in Moby-Dick. I looked for it this morning, but I think Tom brought it with him to work in the wee hours. :) I have plenty to do at work but not too much, and the prospect of Friday night’s soirée, followed by the weekend’s trip to Albany, is keeping me smiling.

We saw Iron Man on Monday night - review, of course, forthcoming. We greatly enjoyed it. Stay past the credits. Tom had to be at work at 3am on Tuesday (after a full day on Monday), so he was getting home right about when I was leaving work yesterday, so I stayed out and browsed the mall-that-is-Soho, escaping with exactly one pair of fishnet tights (who knew they were so hard to find?) and a very inexpensive, surprisingly well-made summer dress from H&M.

Not much else to say right now, except that we were watching The Simpsons last night after I got home, and as it turns out, Grampa Simpson was “voted the best-looking boy in Albany”. Who knew? He’s a homeboy.

Weekend Woundup

I left work early on Friday to have lunch with the lovely Liz, who I’ve known through a couple different mutual friends for a while but hadn’t met. She was on her way from DC to visit her brother and had a stopover between bus and train in town, so we ate dutiful salads at a random Europa Cafe (oh, NYC lunch chains) and shared a kahlua brownie and talked for a couple hours. It was splendid.

I then went to see Made of Honor for a review which should be in WORLD (print!) soon. It was not very good, but it wasn’t painful. That’s about all I can say. Afterwards I headed downtown and jotted down the substance of my review before heading to a ukelele extravaganza at the Bowery Poetry Club, then the Half Pint with a horde. Definitely one of the better Fridays I’ve had lately.

On Saturday our dear Colleen came over; she was in town for a few days after moving home to Anchorage last year, and she’s headed Dublin-ward to Trinity this fall, and I am very excited for her. We had burgers at 67 Burger and then picked up some groceries. Alisa came by later on, and we ate copious waffles and drank rosé and discussed good books before everyone went home.

After church on Sunday, we had a lovely relaxing brunch in the garden behind Palma, and dinner at the Stone Home Wine Bar around the corner from us, all with friends. I also finished Brideshead Revisited and started Saturday, which is amazing.

Today I had one triumph - I convinced the university that I am properly immunized and managed to register for the Moby-Dick class. I’ve already bought the books, so I’m glad there were no snags. I am very excited for this class to start. I’m playing at being a grad student in the English department this summer, what with Moby-Dick and the British novel class, and I have to say, I think it’s a good way to spend the summer.

A relatively open week for me, besides work. I don’t even have class. On Friday I’m going to An Evening with Michel Gondry at the Museum of the Moving Image, and perhaps a tiny féte afterwards, and Saturday brings an Albany-bound train for Mother’s Day. I haven’t been home or seen my mom since January, and I’m very much looking forward to it. She tells me the Tulip Festival is brightening the pretty part of downtown Albany, and maybe we’ll get to see it this year.

Lastly, my review of Harmony Korine’s newest, Mister Lonely, is in this issue of Paste, but it’s also online. I tried, but I wasn’t a huge fan.

Monday

Hi, netheads.

I haven’t much to say, except I did manage to bang out the required number of pages for my paper and make some kind of cohesive argument, and the rest of the week is devoted to lots of rewriting and some introducing and concluding and bibliographing. It’s odd, though, because now I have no reading for class and I’ve tied up my articles, and suddenly I’m doing things like reading for pleasure again. Granted, I’m reading the novels for my summer class, but they are wonderful. Currently, it’s Orwell’s Keep the Aspidistra Flying.

It’s very rainy out, but I can’t complain. As they say in Jane Austen books, “we’ve been enjoying exceptional weather of late.” I do hope I can go out for a run tomorrow morning, though.

Friday

I haven’t got much to say; I went out for a run around 7am today and Tom was home when I got back. Long night at the Guggenheim for him!

And I’m looking forward to a long weekend of paper-making, in the hopes of putting my own feeble little brick into the wall of scholarly knowledge within the week. Long live the academy.

Getting it all done

I’m not trying to impart wisdom here. I’m too young and inexperienced to have much in the way of wisdom. But lately, a lot of people have made comments to me (in person and online) to the tune of “how do you do it?”, mostly because, well, I do work a lot, and I don’t miss deadlines, and I guess this isn’t normal. :) So that’s all this is.

I’m not a particularly high-energy person. I can’t remember the last time I woke up in the morning and felt rested, even after sleeping a long time. (Yes, I realize this is probably not a good thing!) I would almost always rather be on the couch watching mindless TV than doing anything else.

But when I moved to New York, and nobody was telling me what to do at any particular time, I realized that I could turn into a serious lump, the kind of person who only got off the couch to go to work so as to pay the rent, who always eats Chinese take-out and never does the laundry or makes the bed, the kind of person who always talks about doing things, but never actually does them. And I didn’t want to be that kind of person. Realistically, if I expect to do anything significant in life, I have to form good working habits so that I have some structure from which to deviate. :)

In that vein, I established some practices that I mostly live by, and I think these help me to keep doing what needs to be done . . .

I never say that “I’m just not motivated enough to do X.” Kids need to be motivated to do what they need to do, but adults are supposed to be able to do things whether or not there’s a carrot dangling in front of their face. Same for saying “I just can’t [do that thing I need to do]“. Yes, I can do it - I have the time and I am physically able. If I don’t do it, it’s not because I can’t - it’s because I’m choosing not to.

When I wake up in the morning, I usually want to roll over and hit the snooze button. Then I realized that the extra twenty or thirty minutes of sleep, no matter how good it sounds, doesn’t realistically make any difference, so I just get out of bed. (See above!)

In the last year or so I’ve become a little more crazy about my health habits, because I don’t really have time to be sick and I seem to be extra susceptible to it, especially in winter. So, I get up a little earlier in the morning to exercise for twenty minutes (which, by the way, if I can exercise in our tiny apartment, anyone can exercise), I take supplements (a multi, an essential fatty acid, and a gingko biloba, and Emergen-C if I’m feeling under the weather), I don’t drink coffee except on the weekends and instead drink a lot of green tea (no mid-morning crash), and I sorted out foods that I seemed to be sensitive to - chief among them dairy - and stopped eating them. I seek out vegetables and proteins and try to save any “bad” eating for the weekends, when I’m out with friends. I choose to take the extra minute and “just do” things that are easy to slack on, like flossing my teeth or putting my clothes away properly at night. ;) A little goes a very long way.

I “overcommit” on purpose. This is a dicey one and I realize it’s a slippery slope. I don’t take on more than I can possibly do (or at least, I try not to do that), but I do commit to work that I know I should do, but that will require effort I may gripe about later - article assignments, grad school, whatever. I take on a challenging workload because I don’t work well unless I’m under a deadline. (This, incidentally, is why I have the highest regard for novelists and people who don’t necessarily work under assignment. They do it because they do it, not because someone is tapping their foot and breathing down their neck!)

When I write, I just sit down and pound it out. I am the most scattered writer in the world, I think, but I write my thoughts down, and every time I have another thought I quickly start a new paragraph and type out the thought, because my brain doesn’t retain things from moment to moment and I don’t want to lose any of them. Anne Lamott says something in Bird By Bird about writing a “s***ty first draft”, and that’s exactly what I do. I’m confident enough to know I can do it, but only only gained that confidence by doing. (If you’re a writer, but you don’t write, then you’re not a writer.)

Oh, and I use Google Docs to hold all my articles, so that if I’m at work and I have a sudden thought, I can input it into a document and still access it from home.

I rigorously keep a calendar. I once kept all my appointments and things-to-do in my head, but that flew out the window ages ago. Last year I used a Moleskine day planner, which was great; this year I’m using a combination of Google Calendar, Google Sync, and my Blackberry. I check the calendar every morning and I make sure to cross things off my list as I do them, so I feel a sense of accomplishment. The calendar holds everything - workout, laundry, screenings, meetings and deadlines at work, grocery shopping. I’m totally comfortable moving things around on the calendar and rescheduling and even removing things, but it keeps me sane and lets me not worry about forgetting something.

Until my to-do list is done for the day, I don’t take a break beyond a lunch break (during which I’m often reading for class or an article). Taking a break to “goof off” makes me lose serious traction and the day goes haywire from there. Working till it’s all done means more time to relax after the work is done, which also means more time to spend with my husband.

I take a Sabbath. I wasn’t good about this in college and I definitely paid for it. On Sunday, I don’t worry too much about what I’m eating, I don’t work out, I drink coffee, I go to church and brunch with friends, I read books that interest me (rather than books for school), and I watch bad movies with Tom. Basically, I don’t do anything that’s “productive”, in the sense of crossing it off my list. All those things are wonderfully productive and regenerative in their own right. And though I’m not really happy to see Monday come, at least I’m not already completely exhausted.

Except the first and last principles here, these are just what works for me, my working style, and the way my life is structured. I realize that I work fast, my work is well suited for short bits here and there that add up to a whole, and I live in a small space with one adult and no children, which means relatively little housework. I don’t claim any of this would work for anyone else, though I suspect much might. But as I read about the people who do significant and good work in the world, it seems that they are willing to push past mental limitations and their own laziness to do more, and they just never say they can’t do something.

What disciplines, principles, or tools do you use to do the work that’s set before you?

I want to go home

Rather than being at Calvin like, oh, pretty much everyone in the universe right now, I’m still at work, hoping to have the magazine packaged at at the front desk for the printer to pick up on Monday. Hurrah!

So I’m going home once that’s done to start trying to gather research for my paper. Not to jinx it, but I’m postulating something along the lines of how the “new” evangelical film, produced by filmmakers from outside “the church”, has a lot in common with the classical definition of kitsch. I think I’ve got a lot to draw on for that. (If you’re in IAM, you know what I mean, but I do have a lot of scholarly work to back it up as well.)

Happily, today was delivery day at the house; the cable guy came to hook up our internet, the new bookcase was delivered, and the refrigerator has finally arrived (hurrah for groceries again!). Oh, and yesterday we got a coffee table, so now I finally have a place to scatter all my papers and set down my cup of tea while I work, since I don’t have a desk. Tom uses our desk and his job requires a lot of papers to be around all the time. I don’t really mind. After sitting in front of a desk all day at work, it’s nice to work from the comfort of the couch.

I have grand plans to spend most of tomorrow writing reviews for three books that only just came in the last couple days, watching a film and writing a review, wading through the five scholarly books I have from the library and tagging what’s useful, hopefully getting the skeleton of an outline down, then heading off to a pre-Tribeca Festival press screening and a friend’s staged reading. It’s times like these that I have a love-hate relationship with being a writer; on the one hand, it’s pretty easy for me to start writing a paper. I’ve gotten past the whole fear-of-the-page thing by now, since I’m always under the gun. On the other hand, it’s surprisingly hard to write scholarly work when you’re used to turning out Paste-worthy snappy writing. Academia seems not to look kindly on wit. My academic prose will never be too dry, but I have to kick myself into big-word mode.

It’s nice to be able to use big words, though. I’d gotten out of the habit.