computer

It's the motherboard. No more updates from moi until this junk is fixed. And cost of electricity went up 22% in New York! What a fartini the world has shaken up for us this week.

But, I did get a review accepted in Rain Taxi Review of Books. So that's a bit of good news. And so's the fact that I'll be reading in NYC, at Cafe Vivaldi, on September 23rd with poets Joy Ladin and Alexis Sullivan.

one million brazilians

I'm getting my blogses out now, because there's something of a chance I'll be computer-free when I return to NY. Garrett says my poor machine won't turn on. I hope it's something easily fixable like a power supply or maybe a fuse or an outlet in the apartment itself. I really can't handle replacing it right now, but I have been thinking of a desktop. But the whole process is just so overwhelming and I would rather not have to mess with it at all.


Interpersonally (read: hanging-out-wise) this has been a great vacation, but it has also been a terrible week for all kinds of electronic devices and vehicles. We had a famously awful time getting here (a backwards-booked flight resulting in an airport switch; possibly my fault but I don't think so), my mom's car battery ran out one night at 2AM at a gas station (I was driving, but a battery is definitely not my fault), and a series of trains missed and late. Some friends also had car trouble, and now, my computer seems to be acting questionably. I'm not really sure what I should do. I wanted to get away from everything for awhile, but this week everything seems to have exacerbated despite my best efforts. My horoscope didn't warn against this...

Anyway, tomorrow I go home, and then it's work work work for the next, like, 8475 years.

weather report

FLORIDA RULZ. Best vacation ever. "Pounding surf," here I come, with cooler and beach umbrella and copy of Faust tucked away in my trendy tote.

The feeder bands, or, as my mom calls them, "Peter Pans," are apparently worst on the right side where we are. Expect G and I to be covered in a thin layer of peanut butter and fairy dust upon our return.

WARNING: YOU MIGHT LOSE LIMBS IF YOU TRY THIS EVEN IN THE RELATIVE SAFETY OF YOUR HOME.

Instead of dancing With the Stars, these winsome At-Large editors dance, with sufficient abandon, near the stairs.

I spent a long time going to a sketchy party today. I mean, the party itself wasn't that sketchy (it was held to kick off a certain comedienne's new VH1 show), but my directions were sketchy and my sense of direction (good God) was even sketchier. Then, when I did get there, I had to wait for the person whose "Plus One" I was to get back from her questionable errand. I'm destined to be a Plus One. You know what they say... Always a Plus One, Never a Guest. But there was an open bar. So I guess it was worth the Wednesday night. And, while I was waiting, I had a slice from one of the places that claim to make New York's best pizza. I don't see a huge difference between one slice and the next, really, but hey.

Then I got home and cooked Best Lentil Salad Ever. It turned out awesome, because nobody can fuck this salad up. Seriously.

skullcap and mullet

I am obsessed with the X-Files. I never watched the show when it was on the air, but now, I've been going through these DVDs like a hot knife goes through butter. It's been easy, and enjoyable, and actually not at all fattening, so I guess that butter thing maybe isn't accurate as a trope at all. But whatever the metaphor, when G comes in, we'll keep watching.

My phone broke. This may or may not have anything to do with the fact that I dropped it one too many times -- the straw that broke the camel's trusty old candybar-style Nokia -- but I'm not that sad. Why, you ask. Well, as a result of the sad demise of my electronic limb, I've been having a me-day. I finished my review of D. Nurkse's The Border Kingdom (which you should read now that it's out -- it's a beautiful manuscript), and edited the snot out of a woeful mess I had the gall to call a poem last spring. Then, yoga, and then I cooked a bizarre dinner that should be categorized someplace between burritos and dumplings. Dumplitos? Burrlings? You decide. The informal poll will take place in my comments section.

At any rate, while I am enjoying it, I still somehow doubt that the elation about being in my own company will last very long. I'm the type that wants to always have something scheduled, but who will go to all lengths to avoid doing the scheduled task, and who isn't above making plans for coffees (or happy hour PBRs, or housepainting, or lawn-seeding) just to steer away and distract from said thing.

Actually, on second thought, I'm thinking I'll make it until I'm through these X-Files DVDs.

ew shopping

Phew. G and I went to the new Red Hook IKEA tonight, and I almost had a breakdown. There were too many people, and it was cavernous enough to look just like a Sam's Club. And I wanted a cinnamon bun but couldn't get one because the lines were too long and it was 10PM and we would have missed the shuttle bus. But we now have a slew of new wall shelves to hold all our back issues of Poetry Magazine... and, y'know, real books too.

We also bought a little sago palm. There's a tragic, weepy history to this purchase. Last year at some art fest I fell in love with a sago, bought it, and brought it home. I named it "Buford", and it thrived on the window sill for awhile, but then I decided to repot it into a snazzy terracotta bulb that I found at the junk store. During the replanting, I must have shocked poor Buford, because it dropped all its leaves within a few weeks. Now I don't know if it's alive or dead. They say sagos can live years and years and just not push out any leaves. I'll keep hope alive, but in the meantime, we bought another one just so I could prove to myself that I can take care of one of them.

In addition to the shelves and the sago, I also have a bitchin' new 70's burnt-orange spice rack courtesy of Pete. This joint is finally starting to look cool and interesting and not like someone's attic.

Oh, and poems. I've been writing them. More to come about this later, when I'm not busy blogging about how magical it is to be a consumer! In the meantime, submit your poems to At-Large's Teeth Issue, which will be coming out this fall...