Tuesday, December 15, 2009


I love this song, and I like this homemade animated video some chick made for it.
That is all.

Saturday, December 12, 2009


Yesterday I opened up a magazine on the train only to find a picture of a person I have hooked up with looking back at me.

I was startled.

Then I remembered the time in high school that I opened the local county magazine and saw a picture of a boy I made out with on an 8th grade hiking trip.

Survey: has anybody else ever come face to face with their sexual history through print media?
Seeing as how newspapers and magazines probably wont be around much longer, its probably going to start happening more frequently in blogs....

oh wait.... shit.

Friday, December 11, 2009


If you are one of the four people who reads this stupid thing, I think you know that I like to eat and drink.
A Lot.
Thus I am ashamed to say that today I was outdone by a pack of near-senior citizens during a three hour lunch today in Connecticut(what a place.) I had lunch with my mother (60) her best friend (65) and her two friends who were in from London for her birthday (ages 65 and 72.) These people have been eating and drinking together for over 35 years, and it shows. We had four course meal and four bottles of wine at one o'clock in the afternoon. I got home two hours ago and I still feel like I am going to die.
I have to do it all over again tomorrow for her birthday.
I am getting back to San Francisco on the day of our "Holiday" potluck.
If I keep going at this rate, this is a projected image of what I will look like by New Years:

(I dyed my hair brown, btw.)

Wednesday, December 9, 2009


Who left that copy of "Eat, Pray, Love" on my bedroom bookshelf?

Not cool.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Home sweet home

I am taking advantage of my time at my parent's house (and their working computer) to write one my stellar blogposts that you all (Julie and Morgan) love so much.

I've been reading this book of poems by Anne Carson called "The Beauty of the Husband." The book is comprised of 29 poems which illustrate the trajectory of a failed marriage, and is supposedly a response to Keats' assertion that "beauty is truth." She is one of my favorite poets and I am particularly enjoying this collection. It has also gotten me thinking a lot about marriage, something I generally spend very little time contemplating, although that is changing a bit now that every time I log on facebook, I read that somebody else I know has become engaged.

Anyway, back to my parents house: tonight I got an eyeful of martial bliss as I watched my mother step up the annual war she and my father wage over the thermostat. My dad is cheap and has reptilian blood and therefore believes that 60 is an appropriate room temperature for the house in the winter months. My mother disagrees, calling my father a cheap Irish bastard who cannot respect her poor circulation and turns it back up to 65. Tonight she took it to a new level when she, upon discovering the heat at 62, stole his college diploma (which happens to hang next to the thermostat in his office)off the wall and hid it in the guest bathroom. The diploma was then replaced with a note that said "no Magna Cum Laude Princeton graduate could possibly live here, because they would be able to remember that the heat is supposed to be at 65 degrees when it is below freezing outside."
He has not yet seen this note.
They will be married for 27 years in February.