Archives for August 2005

“Using a camera appeases the anxiety which the work-driven feel about not working when they are on vacation and supposed to be having fun. They have something to do that is like a friendly imitation of work: they can take pictures.”

Susan Sontag, On Photography

“Using a camera appeases the anxiety which the work-driven feel about not working when they are on vacation and supposed to be having fun. They have something to do that is like a friendly imitation of work: they can take pictures.”

Susan Sontag, On Photography

Things I Learned Senior Year

1. A dinner coat looks better than full dress.

2. There is as yet no law determining what constitutes trespass in an airplane.

3. Six hours of sleep are not necessary.

4. Bicarbonate of soda taken before retiring makes you feel better the next day.

5. You needn’t be fully dressed if you wear a cap and gown to a nine-o’clock recitation.

6. Theater tickets may be charged.

7. Flowers may be charged.

8. May is the shortest month in the year.

Robert Benchley, “What College Did to Me”

Things I Learned Senior Year

1. A dinner coat looks better than full dress.

2. There is as yet no law determining what constitutes trespass in an airplane.

3. Six hours of sleep are not necessary.

4. Bicarbonate of soda taken before retiring makes you feel better the next day.

5. You needn’t be fully dressed if you wear a cap and gown to a nine-o’clock recitation.

6. Theater tickets may be charged.

7. Flowers may be charged.

8. May is the shortest month in the year.

Robert Benchley, “What College Did to Me”

I got up very, very early yesterday morning to write my Washington Post column for this Sunday, went to the gym, then staggered back home to write a piece about Me and You and Everyone We Know. I wrote four hundred words, then fell asleep at my desk. A few minutes later (at least I think it was a few minutes) I woke up and took a peek at the screen of my iBook. This is what I saw:

For the moment, though, American filmgoers remain trapped in a transitional perioddddddddddddddddddddddddddd

The funny part is that the first four hundred words were actually pretty good….

Never before have I fallen asleep in the middle of writing a piece, but in every other way the events of the past few days have been all too typical. This is what happens when I have too much to do in not enough time: I stay up too late, get up too early, and blog compulsively in between deadlines. That’s the weird part. You’d think I wouldn’t blog at all under such dire circumstances, but as soon as the adrenalin starts to flow, I reach for my iBook, and the only thing that will turn off the tap is sheer exhaustion.

I’m not done yet–I still have to finish the Me and You piece, write and file my Wall Street Journal drama column for this Friday, and correct the galleys of the Commentary essay I wrote on Monday morning–but at least the end really is in sight. The rest is silence: I have a rendezvous with a Zipcar. (I even remembered to buy sunblock for my left arm!) Our Girl will post my Friday drama-column teaser and such almanac entries as I manage to upload before hitting the road. Otherwise, you won’t be hearing from me again until Monday.

See you later–and when you speak of me, speak well.

I got up very, very early yesterday morning to write my Washington Post column for this Sunday, went to the gym, then staggered back home to write a piece about Me and You and Everyone We Know. I wrote four hundred words, then fell asleep at my desk. A few minutes later (at least I think it was a few minutes) I woke up and took a peek at the screen of my iBook. This is what I saw:

For the moment, though, American filmgoers remain trapped in a transitional perioddddddddddddddddddddddddddd

The funny part is that the first four hundred words were actually pretty good….

Never before have I fallen asleep in the middle of writing a piece, but in every other way the events of the past few days have been all too typical. This is what happens when I have too much to do in not enough time: I stay up too late, get up too early, and blog compulsively in between deadlines. That’s the weird part. You’d think I wouldn’t blog at all under such dire circumstances, but as soon as the adrenalin starts to flow, I reach for my iBook, and the only thing that will turn off the tap is sheer exhaustion.

I’m not done yet–I still have to finish the Me and You piece, write and file my Wall Street Journal drama column for this Friday, and correct the galleys of the Commentary essay I wrote on Monday morning–but at least the end really is in sight. The rest is silence: I have a rendezvous with a Zipcar. (I even remembered to buy sunblock for my left arm!) Our Girl will post my Friday drama-column teaser and such almanac entries as I manage to upload before hitting the road. Otherwise, you won’t be hearing from me again until Monday.

See you later–and when you speak of me, speak well.

“An artist should be worldwide in his thinking, but implacably national once he begins to create.”

Maurice Ravel (interview with Olin Downes, New York Times, 1928)

“An artist should be worldwide in his thinking, but implacably national once he begins to create.”

Maurice Ravel (interview with Olin Downes, New York Times, 1928)