If I Could I Would, But I Don’t Know How

It takes a certain kind of mood…introspective, confused, and a little hungover…to inspire me to listen to the same song over and over again. And even then, it must mesh with the mood perfectly. Today, for me, that song is this interesting combination of Phish and Allison Krauss:

That’s all. There’s a bottle of wine atop the refrigerator with my name on it. Also, there was a dramatic sunset in New York City tonight and the skyline never struck me as so beautiful.

Dear Angry Bloggers: “I can walk on water, bitch!” Love, Jesus

As an unpublished blogger…(aside from the college lit magazine and an essay in a textbook about MTV’s NEXT that somehow got published even though I cited this YouTube clip:

“Molly was cool, but if I wanted to date a virgin, I’d date my mom!”
“Do you know who MY father is?”
Must be the Catholic upbringing in me, but it reduces me to teary eyed laughter.)

…so as I was saying, as a semi-unpublished blogger, I found the new Village Voice’s cover story an interesting read.  Confession: usually I skip to the back for Free Will Astrology and Savage Love.  Sometimes I read a few paragraphs of Musto. Confession #2: I don’t understand those really scary, animosity-filled bloggers who spend all their time criticizing things. Criticizing politicians: AWESOME. Criticizing every book or film you come upon: Why? This blog is still pretty new, but if I’m going to take the time to talk about a book or author, 9 times out of 10 it’ll be to give it a positive plug.

Maybe I’m just not angry enough. The only vaguely angry thing I’ve written in the past week was calling William Shatner terrible and Candice Bergen annoying. I get it, though. There’s a lot to be angry about. People are getting laid off, people can’t find jobs. It’s the holidays. I can’t afford my weekly ration of Charles Shaw. (That link is only 1.5 years old and already the once-called “Two-Buck Chuck” is up to $2.99+tax.) Anywho, I have nothing else to say. It’s just that it’s raining and I’m at the Internet cafe and I have a five-block walk uphill ahead of me. Maybe that’s what separates me from other bloggers: They’re angry, I’m lazy.

Weekend in Review

A job offer came on Friday.  Wrapped up in German smiles and

Monopoly money, it promised Long Island City freedom

and casual Monday through Fridays,

but at $9/hr and no benefits I kindly refused. 

 

Sunday we saw that Richard Gere movie.

Richard’s face appeared and Ali whispered, “He’s like a wine.”

Saturday was nothing to speak of, except for Fast Food Nation

furthering a deep love for Greg Kinnear

and Blood Diamond furthering

a curiosity about the Rhodesian/Zimbabwean accent.

 

Friday we were irresponsible citizens, choosing to drink an excess of red and white wine during the presidential debate. “If they made blue wine,

we would be patriotic right now.”  

 “Money bailouts, Pakistan, pork-barrel spending?”  “Hard to swallow.”   

“Orgy of spending.” 

“Jim Lehrer is surprisingly handsome.”

I think it's the eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

Note: Planning on being sober for Thursday’s VP debate.