archives for February 2007
weird
Friday 16 February 2007 | I like a cookie
The New Mexican provides this helpful listing of all the spiritual groups in Santa Fe—anything that could be even remotely considered a congregation has been included, from the Assembly of God to A Course in Miracles to the Wiccans. It is, quite frankly, like dropping in on a Fellini cast party. These people are weird—probably […]
from a letter to flipper in nyc
Friday 16 February 2007 | I like a cookie
Guten tag, O astute cultural observer—
I do keep meaning to blog all my Mexican photos and observations, but a fritzy modem and some strained wrist tendons keep me real for now (as in, markedly non-virtual, for me). One of the images that stays with me most durably was of utterly delighted little children playing at […]
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metahemeralism, by request
Thursday 15 February 2007 | I like a cookie
This passage from Donna Tartt may be funny because it recalls all of the botched, last-minute, ill-researched papers for which one has been responsible oneself; or perhaps because of all the ill-researched papers one has had to read. In any case, when we read it in college it seemed painfully, riotously familiar—as well as introducing […]
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grumpy valentine cat
Wednesday 14 February 2007 | I like a cookie
things we found (before we knew how to use the scanner)
Sunday 11 February 2007 | I like a cookie
Do you love me?
Do you live there?
I send a letter.
I mean, seat down!
There is a little baby?
That man has a van?
So, the whole dang guvamint fits on Guadalupe. That explains a lot…
Someone small, learning about either feelings or emoticons.
But the paralyzed vets might not wish to be thusly honored.
“When I catch snakes, That is wat […]
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friday refrains · 11 february 1963
Friday 9 February 2007 | someone left a cookie
WORDS HEARD, BY ACCIDENT, OVER THE PHONE
O mud, mud, how fluid!—
Thick as foreign coffee, and with a sluggy pulse.
Speak, speak! Who is it?
It is the bowel-pulse, lover of digestibles.
It is he who has achieved these syllables.
What are these words, these words?
They are plopping like mud.
O god, how shall I ever clean the phone table?
They are […]
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overheard in godmother’s religion course
Thursday 8 February 2007 | I like a cookie
“Could you elaborate on Freud’s blaming of the mother? Because I, like, I thought it was just my mother.”
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a small ani
Wednesday 7 February 2007 | I like a cookie
Our belated welcome to the infant daughter of Mr. DiFranco, the admittedly quirkily named Petah Lucia (well, at least it wasn’t Frances Bean), born at home in Buffalo, NY on January 20, weighing in at seven pounds and some change. Maybe she’ll grow up to be girlfriends with Tori Amos’ daughter, Natashya Lórien (of whom, […]
indecision arises with the illusion of limitless choice
Wednesday 7 February 2007 | I like a cookie
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how it happened last february
Tuesday 6 February 2007 | someone left a cookie
It was late at night. I was exhausted and trying to write some stupid movie review due the next morning and Eloise was driving me batty, bouncing around on the desk and mrrting and staring at me and just generally being an irritant. Okay, fine, I said. Go out one more time. Please. I slid […]
