I found this lady face sweatshirt yesterday. I think it’s my own slightly more subtle version of the THE FUTURE IS FEMALE garb. Full disclosure, I will be wearing it every day going forward until it becomes a cast and fuses with my skin and it has to be sliced off with a saw while I cry.
My froworker Elizabeth is getting married in Carmel this weekend and I just can’t decide what to wear. It’s outdoors and at night and the couple requested ‘Get fancy! Go for it!’ So I’m thinking something like this:
My Mom got Morrison and I a subscription to Our State, North Carolina’s official magazine, which is her very subtle way of shouting at us to move there. It’s full of pictures and articles about all of the awesome things happening there, or as Morrison lovingly calls it, ‘Propaganda.’ While it is inconceivable, really, for us to do our work in NC, it’s still fun to fantasize about, which is, of course, what it is: a fantasy. People who actually live in NC go about their lives with work and stress and do not spend all of their time in whimsical sandwich shops or making three bean salads or exploring caves. But still, the magazine is very effective. I know I was just there a week ago, but how soon is too soon for another casual trip home perhaps for a CHEERWINE FESTIVAL?
Like most kids who grow up in the suburbs, when I was a kid, I fetishized the mall, like just so deeply and badly needed to get a ride there so I could get my cartilage pierced at Claires or eat a cookie the size of my face or just walk through racks of low-rise pants that didn’t fit me. It’s not my favorite thing about myself, but I am somehow calmed by rows and shelves of Things, organized neatly by color and size. Since I fixated on Malls so much when I was young, I am really disturbed by the fact that they are now dying, so much so that there is now a term for the abandoned or nearly abandoned spaces, ‘dead mall.’ There’s even a term for the abandoned large hub of the mall, the JCPenney’s or Dillards or Sears: that gaping pit emptiness is called a ‘ghostbox.’ There needs to be a word for what I’m feeling — this sense that I am inside of slowly changing world — a world that is moving so fast I barely notice the changes — but every now and then, when I pause, I glimpse the change and it makes my skin buzz and my stomach sink. What is this feeling? Futuresense? Changefeel? DEADMALL?
Say, are you a white woman who fetishizes Asian babies but are sadly married to a white man so there’s no way that the two of you will produce one or at least not the old fashioned way? FOLLOW TINY GENTLE ASIANS ON INSTAGRAM FOR DAYS AND DAYS OF FAT BEAUTIFUL ANGELS!
Six months married today, so yeah, I can officially say that I know everything. Mostly I’ve been struck by the values of patience, compromise, and listening. But even more mostly, I am blown away basically every day by Morrison’s ability to handle my madness when I overload myself and short circuit, how he can not only calm me down but also, how quickly he can get me (us) to the place of laughing at the absurdity of whatever the situation. If it’s not funny at its core, WHY EVEN LIVE IT AT ALL?
Last night, our short film Again had its first screening at the Tribeca Film Festival, in an evening with five other beautiful shorts. They treat you GOOD. A representative to usher you around / make you feel important, a theater with reclining leather seats, a big piece of paper with words on it to stand in front of. Of all of the pleasures and joys, the most greatest was watching Morrison bring the heat as if he were born to do it, on the red carpet,
and that big ol’ fancy screen.
For the first time in my adult working life, I just voted to strike. Sometimes I forget that I’m in a guild, as I don’t feel like a laborer. Writers’ work happens mostly in our minds, but we still need a guild to protect us from tomfoolery, like, say, the fact that tv and film producers’ income has DOUBLED in the last eight years, while writer’s income has decreased by 30 percent. Our pension is suffering, we’re working for less money, and we’re expected to do it with gratitude that we are working at all. The problem with this is that writers are dreamers by nature, which is super easy to take advantage of. I’m still sort of shocked that I get paid at all to write, but I have to put that aside and stand up for fair pay — especially given the INSANE amount of money that is being made off of what we write. And so, STRIKE! I’m choosing to hope that this is just a bargaining tool for the negotiators, but either way — see you on the picket lines, or back in the writer’s room with what we deserve (SNACKS) (AND HEALTHCARE)
Today, on AMERICA YOU RIDICULOUS BEAST: for a limited time, at limited locations, Starbucks is now serving UNICORN FRAPPUCINOS.
They describe it as ”made with a sweet dusting of pink powder, blended into a crème Frappuccino with mango syrup and layered with a pleasantly sour blue drizzle. It is finished with vanilla whipped cream and a sprinkle of sweet pink and sour blue powder topping.” A part of me is like, this is everything that is wrong with the entire world. And then of course the other part of me takes THAT part of me / turns it into whimsical crystalized sugar / shoves it up my nose / starts jogging through the night to Canada to get in line for a ‘FLAVOR-CHANGING’ UNICORN THAT YOU CAN DRINK.
Usually when I come home for a visit, my Mom has left me a series of books in my room that she thinks will be good for my soul. I am usually so consumed by the undulating dramas of my own life that I rarely read them. But no part of me could resist this trip’s offering, the love story of Chip and Joanna Gaines, stars of HGTV’s Fixer Upper:
Basically the show just follows this adorable married couple as they flip houses for other adorable people, while he does things like ram his head into walls and put spiders in her hair and she just laughs with the shy beauty and grace that only a half-Korean half-Texan could bear. Perhaps a book ONLY to be read snuggled into bed at your parents house, drifting off on a soft sea of Melatonin, but a charm of a book, just the same.