I just realized that despite my best efforts to look hard-at-work, the darkness filling up the window directly behind me, only helps to reflect my desktop screen for my boss, and anyone who stops by my desk, to see that instead of drafting, I’m reading which starlet will play Eponine.
damn you, night
Obvious criticisms of myself and Breaking Dawn at the Loews 34th Street Theater
- Bella has no aspirations other than to have her boyfriend kill her, and then in this installment, to die at the tiny hands of her demon baby. Why doesn’t she value her own life? Did Forks High School forget to staff a college counselor?
- A woman brought her two year old child to the screening I attended and sat directly behind me.
- Another woman chose to seat herself on the aisle steps next to me and complain aloud to her hulking boyfriend who would not sit down, about the lack of seats, and after I asserted that she please be quiet, I overheard her threaten to her beau, “I would punch a mother.” And spent many minutes wondering if she’d break my glasses before she wandered out of the theater.
- Werewolf imprinting to me, sounds a lot like women are property. And a man’s claim to a lady can start moments after being born.
- I will see Part 2 opening weekend.
“She’s parodying and confirming sexist ideas all at once, which is pretty much the ethos of the series. It reminds me of “Glee,” which likes to insult fat people and then sing songs about how wrong it is to bully them.” —
Emily Nussbaum for The New Yorker about Whitney Cummings.
I would go back to school if I could either write ethnographies all day or sit in on lectures lead by Emily Nussbaum.
just when I thought I had endeared myself
- Me: I have yet to hear back from a real human being at JFK regarding your lost ID.
- Boss: Why am I not surprised?
- Me: I'd hazard a guess it's because you're disillusioned.
- Boss: See, even rhetorical questions have an answer!
- Me: Well, I'm heading out. I've had enough of blogging for one day.
- Meg: Any new posts I should read?
- Me: It's all the same stuff: I'm getting old but I'm emotionally immature and I love food and talk to my mom with great frequency.
- Meg: Where's the Meg? I could really help with your ratings I bet.
“Once a little boy sent me a charming card with a little drawing on it. I loved it. I answer all my children’s letters — sometimes very hastily — but this one I lingered over. I sent him a card and I drew a picture of a Wild Thing on it. I wrote, “Dear Jim: I loved your card.” Then I got a letter back from his mother and she said, “Jim loved your card so much he ate it.” That to me was one of the highest compliments I’ve ever received. He didn’t care that it was an original Maurice Sendak drawing or anything. He saw it, he loved it, he ate it.” —