My head is tiny. --------
Posted by: Liz
My head is tiny. --------
First SuperBaby and now Frog
Posted by: Liz
First SuperBaby and now Frog Boy. As J's intern said: "It has begun." --------There are several times growing
Posted by: Liz
There are several times growing up that my friend Heather and I would declare something to be true about some aspect of life. Over the years, they accumulated:"Fled" is the worst movie ever made.
The song "Low" by Cracker is the most gettin' in the mood song there is.
Kurt Cobain's cracky voice is the sexiest thing ever.
Gold is tacky.
Arkanoid is the most addicting game.
There is nothing better than avocado rolls and chai tea.
Night swimming is the best part of summer.
"Lost Boys" is a film everyone needs to see.
You have to brush your teeth before going into the shower or you won't feel clean afterwards.
Because I pretty much worshiped Heather, whatever she said was always taken by me to be gospel in the ways of life. Sure, we disagreed on things here and there, but bottom line: if Heather said MC Hammer parachute pants were cool and had her mom sew her some, I was entirely jealous. Of course, time filtered most of these things and my prospective changed on, say, the seductive prowess of David Lowery. But I am constantly surprised at how many of these little "truths" I happen to keep in an accessible part of my brain and how often they come out as things I still believe. I'm likely to offhandedly say, "Fled is the worst movie ever made," but if I really stopped to think about it, there are many--more relevant--movies that could probably fit the conversation better.
So when J and I were invited to a "geekfest" night of playing Risk, I immediately balked with, "I hate Risk!" Because this is true: I have memories of Heather and I trying to play and hating this game. I tried to get out of this game night for a whole weekend. I asked two different friends if they would go in my stead. I finally conceded, but fully expected to not have fun. It wasn't until someone there asked me why I hated Risk that I realized my reasoning may have been somewhat faulty. "When my friend and I were like 10 we tried to play, but couldn't figure out the instructions and then we quit." Hmm, so apparently I never actually played this game before. And shut my mouth, it was some serious good times.
Where else can you pull troops from Kamchatka to help Alaska in a battle against Alberta? Krista and I might need a little help in our strategy (apparently many small troops scattered across the globe is not the way to go), but overall I sensed a distinct addictive quality to this game. Right up there with Arkanoid.
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I treated myself to a
Posted by: Liz
I treated myself to a manicure/pedicure this weekend and now I keep stealing looks to my nails and admiring how great they look. No matter how talented I get at doing my nails, it is nothing compared to the genius work of a skilled pedicurist.But it turns out no amount of good grooming helps me play better air guitar. On Saturday night a group of us girls discovered a local karoke bar and somewhere between "Son of a Preacher Man" and "Tainted Love" we all got ourselves entered into an air guitar contest in order to claim one of the two real guitars they were giving away as prizes.
I realize that now, in the bright afternoon sun of Monday, it doesn't seem likely that we would enter or win such a competition. But you have to imagine us on Saturday night, a few vodka sodas to the wind, the stars of the karaoke bar, with only one other person entered in the contest. We figured with six of us and one of him, the chances were ONE HUNDRED PERCENT that one of us would walk away with a guitar and then have some very interesting things to blog about on Monday morning. I'm not even sure how one judges an air guitar contest. We decided it had to be a mix of a realistic stance, somewhat convincing finger movements, possibly some knowledge of when you should slide your hands or something, and then a whole lot of fucking soul. And somehow the person to fulfill this best was Kelly, stumming her heart out to the opening of Bon Jovi's "You Give Love a Bad Name." Not only was she in a top spot, she was in THE top spot, aka first place. This lasted all the way until the end (now picture us tired, buzzless, and hoarse at 3 am, all in it for the long haul just to see Kelly claim her guitar) where Kelly had to face off against two guys. To no-longer-drunk Kelly this prospect was beginning to look bleak. But let's give the girl some credit: she poured her soul into the best 30-second air guitar rendition of George Thorogood's "One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer" the bar had ever seen. Unfortunately the prize was unceremoniously ripped from her little hands with a very lackluster Black Crows performance and we left defeated and empty handed. Well, the karaoke guy scored some free drink tickets for Kell, but really, not so much a guitar.
Even though not one of us plays or has ever played the guitar, for some reason the idea that we could just suddenly have a guitar--for free--out of the blue set us all to thinking how we would immediately learn how to play in order to make use of the instrument. It wasn't just a guitar we were competing for, it was a talent that would have us playing folk songs on camping trips, and riffs from our favorite songs when we were sitting around. We had rock stardom in our sights and then lost it all.
But I guess since Kelly has some free drink coupons we'll end up there again.
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Last night was another big
Posted by: Liz
Last night was another big fundraiser for 826NYC, with Robert Coover, Dave Eggers, Susan Choi, Rick Moody, and David Byrne. We had this one in this giant church off seventh ave in the slope, and the turnout was pretty good. Having an event in a church lends a certain reverence to the performers' work, and it took a little while to get used to the acoustics and become absorbed in what the readers were actually reading. I'm not sure if it was the atmosphere affecting the performer, or just the inspiration for an intonation coming full circle, but Robert Coover in particular gave the impression of a preacher delivering a sermon. Albeit a sermon with witches and dark forests and kings and frogs. The real show stopper was, of course, David Byrne. There had been rumors leading up to the event that he would in fact be singing along to a karaoke machine in lieu of a back up band, but disappointingly, this turned out to be false. I really shouldn't use the word "disappointingly" in reference to this performance, though because it was unbelievable.Before the event, I'd gone to the back to use the bathroom, but got roped into David Byrne's search for a podium. He was very concerned that the readers wouldn't have anything to stand behind, so we scoured the multipurpose room for something that would work. I asked him if there was a pulpit or something up front that would work and he told me there was a very heavy one.
"How heavy?"
"Well, let's go take a look."
So that's how I ended up on a church stage with David Byrne manhandling a very heavy pulpit. He gently placed the bibles to the side and as we were trying to decide if we could move it, a door on the back of the stand popped open. He looked at me, peeked in and said, "Anything secret hiding in there?"
This playfulness comes out on stage and lasts until the minute he opens his mouth to sing. Then something else entirely comes forth and I can honestly say, he is the best performer I have ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Completely pure passion with utter vocal control. He did a few acoustic songs ("Heaven," "Give Me Flowers While I'm Living") and then called up the drummer from the David Gates band to do "And She Was" and "Life During Wartime."
J, who's now done many McSweeney's related events with the man, is on friendly terms with him. On the way back home, J was feeling thoughtful and lucky. "If I could go back in time and tell my 13-year-old self that I would someday be acquaintances with David Byrne....I think I would have imploded." It's nice when the city doles you out a chunk of happiness that's the accumulation of a long battery of experiences. It then that you can forgive the dirty subways for a bit longer and love the cramped apartment a little more.
Ways to know someone wasn't raised with a Jewish mother:
Guy (looking at rugelach on dessert platter): What's that? Pigs in a blanket?
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Ariel has inspired me to
Posted by: Liz
Ariel has inspired me to be generous with my gmail invites. I have five now, and they seem to keep giving me more, so if you want one leave a comment or email me at that link over there and I'll see what I can do. --------Creepy Jesus figurines and hi-larious
Posted by: Liz
Creepy Jesus figurines and hi-larious stories herewith. --------Eva led me to here,
Posted by: Liz
Eva led me to here, which leads to a site all about author rejection letters. I sincerely think crushing people's hopes is one of the worst parts of my jobs--there's just nothing nice about it. But then I get a gem like this below in the mail and it makes my job just that much easier.Query Letter of the Day
Nearly everyone in the world, including you, wants to believe that O.J. Simpson didn't chop up Nicole. However, against early judgement most people now believe that he killed here. I happen to know what really happened and I've written a compelling novel which explains the reason he looks guilty as shit...
Odd part about it all is this: he actually IS innocent. He does, however, know who the real killers are, and he was partly responsible. This is the story of a hideous double murder, all because one man didn't pay his drug sebt and was an asshole about it. Nicole paid the price...and the killing didn't stop in LA.
Read what really happened.
Literary agent pretenders need not apply. I am dead ass serious about this, I am putting my life on the line and I do not need a stupid fucking form letter informing me that you do not need a million dollars. This is a compelling novel: Movie-ready, full of sex, high energy, human relationships, sex and prostitutes in Amsterdam, love, sex in Boca Raton, Florida, basketball, sex, a study in spiritualism, auto racing, and...did I mention sex?
This is the only opportunity you will get to represent me. Perhaps we can meet the next time I am in your great city of New York. Thank you for your time and I look forward to your reply.
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Your local superhero supply company
Posted by: Liz
Your local superhero supply company made it to the New York Times! --------Perks! I'm going in an
Posted by: Liz
Perks!I'm going in an author's stead to screening of Before Sunset, including a Q&A with the actors and director. I write that with a period, but there are exclamation marks on my insides. Let me know if you have any burning questions for Ethan.
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There's nothing that makes me
Posted by: Liz
There's nothing that makes me feel healthier than going to a new doctor and filling out the thick packet of medical history. It's a special satisfaction to be able to skim over whole pages of ailments and realize you've never had a single one. All clear from thrombophlebitis, blood clots in lungs, and dark tarry stool. I did, however get reprimanded for using Q-tips in my ears. I mean, I know you're not supposed to put them in your ears, but really, what's the big harm. It turns out the big harm is causing impacted earwax. After taking a look into my seemingly clean ear, she actually likened my Q-tip use to the of packing a barrel of a gun. I might have come in for a podiatrist referral, but I ended up lying on my side with bubbly stuff being poured into my ears. It momentarily blocked out all sound and I had the odd sensation of being deaf in one ear, which is completely unlike having normally plugged up ears. My ear actually felt a bit numb and when I touched it, there was no residual hearing of the vibrations of my fingers over the ear. Just, nothing. Lying there, I had the thought that most people would have in this situation: I sure hope this doctor didn't just pour some crazy acid in my ear that will eat into my brain and kill me. And then there would be news reports and interviews with real doctors saying, "Never let someone pour anything into your ears! That went out with bleeding by leeches!" But after a while, she flushed it out and voila! restored hearing. My ear was all wet and she said, "See, I bet you want a Q-tip right now." I totally did.Magic has been restored to my summer TV watching, in the form of Paris Hilton and Nichole Richie. Really, I'm totally mesmerized by how awful they are and how transfixed others are by them. (I'm my own little ouroboros here. Try not to think of Paris when you click that link.) They made this rodeo guy feel guilty about "almost killing Paris" (completely her own fault) and rung him out for $150 dollars worth of total crap from the convenience store. And he still modeled his naked ass in some chaps for them. And then there's the mother who left her child in their care for an evening. And their failure at becoming skilled mermaids--a job that required Paris to dress skimpy and show off in front of people. Methinks the Weeki Wachee Springs has an overly high opinion of itself.
Oh, pop culture. Sometimes I wish I could program my brain to forget about reality shows, the Olsen twins, celebrity pregnancies, and petty gossip about people I don't know. There once existed a younger me who was openly disgusted with my mom for watching Entertainment Tonight. I guess this wasn't exactly the way I expected the genetic wiring to manifest itself.
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The problem with IM and
Posted by: Liz
The problem with IM and email is exactly what makes them attractive forms of communication. They are an incomplete capturing of the communication that is actually taking place, and yet each party can build it a little to best suit the outcome. If a friend emails about a band or current event you think you should know about, it's easy to use Google to "remember" what they're talking about, where the same conversation in person would necessarily be more stilted. It's also easier to affect confidence, excitement, pleasure, and sometimes grief. But of course, it is incomplete because you aren't really getting the whole emotion. Or maybe you're getting a more complex version: the guy who dumped me over IM was essentially saying (in addition to the breaking it off) that he didn't think we had the type of relationship that necessitated actually talking to each other to end it. The parent who tells their kid that their aunt is sick over email may also be saying that they feel uncomfortable relaying the information out loud, or that there's no more information to relay after the final period.My mom told me over IM on Friday that a colleague of hers was found dead in his home. He was in his 40s, was living alone after fights with his wife, had an alcohol problem, and was found at the bottom of the basement stairs with no external contusions. On my mom's referral, this man had also submitted a manuscript to me a few months ago. It was political activist stuff, more suited for a pamphlet or a one off for a small press. We exchanged some emails, I gave him some references, he asked about J's studies of planned obsolescence, he told me to recycle the manuscript he'd sent. It went into a box near my desk where such things go, and over the following weeks I pulled chunks out as scrap paper to feed into the fax machine. And I suppose at some point I must have used up the last bit---filed away the fax, threw away an extra page, recycled the vacation advertisements--because when my mom asked if I still had his writing, I could only say no.
Not to worry, I won't leave you with that. Here, go look at this monkey dog.
If there were ever a real life situation in which I wished I could IM or email instead of talk it is when I am getting my hair cut. Now, some people are very gifted at being able to schmooze with the hairdresser and talk about their vacation plans and lament casually about how many split ends they have they can hardly believe it. I know these people exist because I sit next to them and they laugh and chat and are best friends with their hair dressers. I never learned how to do this well. I love getting my hair cut: love the wash/massage, the feeling of scissors across wet hair, the swishy blown-out feel. But. I do all this enjoyment on the inside. I only speak when spoken to or if it's in direct relation to the haircut. In fact, I get really awkward when the hairdresser tries to talk to me and I know, I KNOW, my answers end up sounding nervous and ridiculous. Is it such a sin to want to enjoy the haircut in silence? Part of the problem, I'm sure is my resting face, which comes off as angry/unhappy. So on the inside I'm thinking how nice everything is, when on the outside the hairdresser is frantically trying to cheer me up. Things would be much easier if I could just send little text messages to the hair brush: love the layers! Looking awesome!! How DO you get my hair so shiny!! Then everyone could relax a little.
In case you didn't know, the big Victoria's Secret stores have a special place for their fancy stuff called the "panty boutique." It is located in a subsection of the store and if you are shopping there, there is a chance that there will be some big VS sales training group that comes in and crowds you into a corner. But then, hey, who are you to be embarrassed?
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Oh, Joel Coen and Bill
Posted by: Liz
Oh, Joel Coen and Bill Murray...it's a long road from The Big Lebowski and Rushmore. Jennifer Love Hewitt...well, maybe we saw this coming.Later: Okay, Liz without the H made an ironic goof. The Coen brothers have nothing to do with cg Garfield. And I write that sentence with only the utmost relief. Thanks, Brion.
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I decided my workout schedule
Posted by: Liz
I decided my workout schedule needed a little shake up. Lately, the main exercise I've been getting are evening walks with J which, more likely than not, end at Tasti-D. So to spice things up a bit, I attended the tai chi class at my gym. I'm aware of the slowness of the practice, but I was optimistic that there would at least be a lot of strength and balance moves involved. The instructor's name was Hans and he had a bit of a gut, which I didn't find especially reassuring to my workout sensibilities, but hey, open mind here. I'd like to say that I have found my new calling, but honestly: it was boring as hell. Super slow means super. slow. My legs got a bit of a workout, but not more so than if I'd just done a few squats and it was all on my left leg. The whole paint the fence, wax on wax off thing was stressed, but it not enough, if that makes sense. He was always a bit too quick to point out how a graceful squat/hold the ball movement was really for breaking someone's arm or tossing them across the room (movements he kept demonstrating with the same unlucky man, Gill). Call me Miyagi, but I was a bit put off by all the application before the learning. But if I come at you at a party with a throw down it's because Liz-son is a quick learner.
Query Letter of the Day: Mealy Minds
My name is -- and I am writing a proposal for a book entitled, 6.4 Billion Slaves. This book is about the misconception of human beings believing themselves as the body, and not the soul, resulting in a world full of people that are not masters but slaves of their minds. The body is mealy the victim of the minds desires therefore every human with desires is a slave to their mind. This mind, which is capable of heart surgery and saving lives can also turn opposite and murder millions of innocent people.
All people who are born will die and those who die will be reborn. This is the biggest disease known to our universe. Many fail to recognize that this disease even exists therefore do not receive the treatments or seek the cure. This disease is near impossible to cure. Treatment is available in a variety of ways including religion but there is only one cure. This cure is not a pill but is walking and talking. The cure is a true Guru. I will explain the need for a true guru and will actually describe the attributes of a real guru. In a world full of counterfeit gurus it is difficult in finding a real guru.
Supreme happiness is impossible in our world. Happiness is fallowed by misery and misery is fallowed by happiness. Still we search for permanent happiness in the material world but time after time realize it doesnt exist. We can buy books at home and teach our children but instead we send them to school. In the same way if we want to learn God we have to go to school and that teacher is a guru. My book will explain human nature and the nature of god and his saint. It will take a person from the lowest realms to the highest heavens and will cure them of this disease almost impossible of curing.
I have been blessed by a true guru at the age of 8. I was raised in a motel, a family business where I saw all likes of people rich and poor. I graduated college in 3 years with a business degree. During the years the business grew and we now stand at 5 hotels. Regardless of being born and raised in America, my lifestyle is one of a true Hindu. In finding a true saint I have accomplished everything I want in life.
He wrote back to assure me that "this subject i'm writing is about reality and your reality. It is not some "made up stuff" to entertain the audiance."
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Juice box innovations via
Posted by: Liz
Juice box innovations via Seth Godin. Something tells me the tofu one won't be the most exciting one in the lineup.Back and rested from a long weekend full of workworkwork for the new 826 space. It has been a long time since I have felt so drained from working on a project so hard, and I didn't even do any of the all-night shifts other people pulled. Everything was successful, though: the event sold out, most of the big people showed up to Sunday's barbecue, and the superhero store is looking good. Whew. I even got the chance to talk with the big D himself, which was surprised me by being a very natural affair. That is to say, there was a time when talking with him at all was a general, faraway sort of idea that filled me with this anxious excitement. But, and I imagine this is true with anyone well-known, a little behind-the-scenes time wears away at the gloss until they are just people again. Which rips away any ideas you had building away in the back of your head about them and starts you at square one, knowing nothing about them. We talked about agents and design and gardening.
I've been thinking about dead things a lot because I'm reading this nonfiction book about a forensic anthropologist working on mass graves in Rwanda. I don't know why I thought this would be a good subway book, but all I manage to do is sandwich my day between accounts of rotting corpses, cutting through bone, bloody hand prints, and sniper attacks. It's very good, but I can't really think of an ideal time to read it. Before bed would probably be worse, and it could put a serious damper on a nice afternoon. Maybe set it aside under rainy day reading.
...and segue: my favorite marketing idea gone bad has to be the new Burger King commercials advertising salads that come with a hot meat pouch. Is there anyone for whom the term "hot meat pouch" conjures up a tasty salad? It reminds me alternately of bedroom talk gone bad and kangaroo pouch goo.
Also: the Honomichl boys are set to ruffle some locals. Read their overseas adventures here.
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This site will tell you
Posted by: Liz
This site will tell you what movie stars you look like. So if you are stunned to see Julia Roberts, Sandra Bullock, or Cher walking down the streets of Park Slope, it is probably just me. --------Morning was off to a
Posted by: Liz
Morning was off to a bad start. Abby was kind enough to give me a beautiful array of herb clippings so that I might fulfill my New York-lifelong dream of having a windowsill herb garden. Well, as you might imagine, Max was overjoyed that I'd brought him a lovely, earthy salad/toy and commenced eating my herbs. J bundled them up safely and put them on top of the kitchen cabinets until we could get a proper windowsill planter. Fast-forward to this morning when I suddenly freaked out because I had forgotten the herbs were up on the cabinets. J pulled them down and I had a pre-coffee freak out session (flapping hands, "Oh fuck! Oh fuckity fuck fuck! I'm the worst person ever. They're dead!" A second look showed they, in fact, were not dead (yet), although being in a plastic bag in my kitchen for a week was no spa vacation. We watered them and relocated them to the back den window, but no sooner had the window gone up then Max comes tearing through the room like a bat out of hell to get to (oh glory!) the open window salad toy. I bent down to grab him, but my fingers ran an interception with his poor little head and down he went. "Oh fuck!" I'd killed the plants and given my cat a concussion. Luckily, disaster was once more averted, as he seemed alert enough and ate some treats and played a bit. But I told him to call me right away if he felt groggy or in pain.Are you bored with cat stories? What do you want to hear? Name dropping? Ok, I've got two: Claudia Gonson (Magnetic Fields) stopped by and gave us some tomato plants for the 826 garden (this wasn't really a coincidence: she also manages One Ring Zero). Also Raffi (yes, that Raffi) is coming into the office in a couple weeks to discuss his book idea. Wheels on the bus, kids.
Ok, tonight's our big They Might Be Giants event. Cross your fingers for a good turnout and a happy crowd.
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I wish we could watch
Posted by: Liz
I wish we could watch beauty pageant contestants answer unrehearsed questions in a timed setting more often. In fact, I could watch a whole show of that (reality tv producers: idea alert!). Because, really, is there anything more satisfying than watching a beauty pageant contestant spit out nonsensical drivel while dressed fancy, smiling ear to ear, and trying to win something? I hope you all remember Miss Oklahoma's response to who in history she'd most like to have lunch with (Justin Timberlake) and why (to show her some dance moves). But apparently, as you go up in the pageant world, the questions get harder and the answers get stupider. I wish I could offer to you the transcripts of last night's Miss Universe question time, but I cannot. This is due mostly to the fact that Miss USA's answer to the toughie "What do you think is women's greatest contribution to the world today?" was, "Children! Definitely! Women have to take care of the children and the household! Don't get me wrong, men are great! But women really do a great job!"My reaction was to stare dumbly at the TV for a second, yell frantically at J to see if he heard what she said, start frantically looking for my phone to see who I could call to confirm she said what I thought she said, and then screech frantically into the phone when Krista called 2 seconds later, also to confirm that the greatest, most sexist comment ever, just fell from the mouth of ol' Barbiepants. Really a beautiful moment.
But it caused me to miss all the in between answers and I only got Miss Trinidad and Tobago's answer to "What was your biggest failure and what have you learned from it?" ("What great audience, hello, I'm happy to be here. Uh, haha, leave it to [Miss USA] to write a tough question like this ha. Uh, well I'd have to say my. Biggest. Failure. Was." pause "Uh when I fell down the stairs at my first pageant and hit my head. But now I've learned how to walk and here I am at the Miss Universe Pageant thank you you're a great audience bye.") Also worthy of note was the amount of time it took Miss Argentina to come up with Eva Peron as the person she most admires.
Because she didn't know that question was coming.
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Movie night was a raging
Posted by: Liz
Movie night was a raging success. I had my doubts sometime during the tsunami that got us in the afternoon, but it managed to clear up perfectly for the Big Lebowski in a perfectly tended garden, an endless supply of white russians, the saltiest, greasiest, best chips I've ever had, and some lovely company. It was by far the happiest I've been all spring. Which I then had to pay for with a milky alcohol/chips/no dinner hangover the next morning, which was not so much pleasant, but set up the day of disgusting food quite nicely. This day included: stale donut, watery ice coffee, overcooked eggs florentine with canned spinach, unpalatable water, and weird pad thai. And to really top the day off, we saw Super Size Me, which will single-handedly ruin your appetite for a good long time. Good documentary, though.Sunday was another gorgeous day and I was lucky enough to get to try my hand at gardening. I'm pretty sure I've told people that I enjoy gardening or I'd like to have a garden or it's so nice to garden, but I realized, rake in hand on Sunday, that I don't know if I've ever really gardened before. I've planted a few flowers (in pots) and weeded (on demand of parents) but I don't think I've ever gotten down and dirty with a real garden before. I was pretty much dreading the whole experience when it got down to it. But suddenly, there I was in the bright sun, turning up soil, and snapping sticks, and upturning rocks, and oh look it's a tiny snail and there goes a roly poly, and I was having a great time. There was also the added excitement of What Trash Will I Uncover Next? This particular garden, making up the backyard of the new 826NYC space, had not been tended to in a long time and had, more accurately, been used as a giant garbage can for a long time. Not like banana peel garbage, but like light bulb, record, iron bars, decaying ladder, frisbee, layers of broken glass garbage. Yes, nice.
So while the weekend could be generous with two days and a night, it was just beyond its capabilities to give us a pleasant Memorial Day and I spent the day crabbing around about how come we don't go on vacations and how come the house is messy and this weather makes me want to die, until J fed me some caffeine and made me get out of the house. What would I do without his motivation?
Query Letter of the Day
I have the synopsis the introduction and the first three chapters translated in English by an experienced in languages. They are around 65 pages in English that I am sending to publishers and agents that treat historical romantic book, (you see etc etc Mary Balogh, Christina Dodd, Kat Martin and Kathleen Woodiwiss).
Could I send you for normal mail this material because can take vision of it? Because sending you the synopsis street I have never understood well if the product can interest you or less, since two different editors have answered me and two contrary things have told me.
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