Archives for August 10, 2007

Maybe I’ve been exposed to too much craft in the past few years — you can’t walk out your door in Asheville without falling over a potter’s wheel — but if I were a rich man all of my friends would be sleeping under these. My favorite is “Skullf***ed”.
(via Mighty Goods.)

With apologies for talking about the weather, but it’s like the steaming pampas here in the mountains. Walk anywhere in jeans and in about ten minutes it feels like you’ve got a pair of these strapped on top, and while that’s weirdly gaucho appropriate it’s also kind of a drag.
Full-body torpor aside, my plans for the weekend are mostly hermit-y. I’ve been a stressed-out monkey about work the past month but I have just one more deadline to hit this afternoon and then I’m caught up (chorus of angels say yay). So I can work on my book this weekend instead of doing work-work, and play with Scrivener, and go to the (air-conditioned) university library and race around the stacks doing weird little research projects, and it will be mole-like and good.
Because of work my reading’s been helter-skelter the past few weeks too — I’m currently about a quarter of the way through a half-dozen books, and loving none of them — so the other big project is to draw up a giant list of what I want to read in the next couple months and then commit to it with fiendish intensity. Good times.
The one social outing on the schedule is to see Paprika at the Fine Arts Theatre . In the Mountain Xpress, Cranky Hanke — who’s a friend, and it’s true, he is cranky! — gave it an explosion of stars. Also, I’ve rented The Goonies, because I’ve never seen it and my husband insists this represents a GIANT, incomprehensible gap in cinematic knowledge. (Speaking of GIANT, incomprehensible gaps, Terry, how is it that you’ve never seen Raiders of the Lost Ark?)
[Bracketed and possibly incomprehensible sports asides: I was jazzed to read about Ankiel’s homer last night. I follow the Braves so witnessed the Meltdown of ’00, which was so painful to watch I hid in the kitchen for part of it. Also great: Having Kornheiser and Wilbon back after an interminable vacation hiatus. True or untrue?: Dan LeBatard is to PTI what Donny is to Big Lebowski. Discuss.]
Have a great weekend, folks!

“On the tenth floor I was admitted by a uniformed female who took my hat and coat, put them in a closet, and conducted me through an arch into a room even bigger than Lily Rowan’s where twenty couples can dance. I have a test for people with rooms that big–not the rugs or the furniture or the drapes, but the pictures on the walls. If I can tell what they are, okay. If all I can do is guess, look out; these people will bear watching.”
Rex Stout, The Doorbell Rang