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Showing posts from February, 2007

Another reason Philly is Suck Ass

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You'd think that in a reasonably metropolitan area, one could expect at least three or four good radio stations. In Philly, there is only half of one. 88.5 plays good music some of the time (and of course I define good music as music I recognize, so you'll have to keep that in mind; they do play more indie/artistic music but I am not very hip and so don't know many of thge songs). Here's what else is available for your listening pleasure: *At least three Jesus stations, one of which is often deceptive because they'll play alterna-Christian rock that only gives itself away in the chorus, so it'll be fairly normal and then burst into: "That is why my God is the only man for me/That is why I am part of his family..." *2-3 country stations which seems disproportionate to the possible demand because I feel like only about 10 people in the entire city of Philadelphia would listen to country music. *Sports/talk radio. *"Soft rock" which means 24 ho

Feel Free to Offer House Warming Gifts at Any Time

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(**Please note that the image here is taken from a Flicker page which belongs to a woman named Emmaelina that you can view here ). So I've been packing boxes to move to a house in South Philly--two story, two bedroom, toilet in the basement (and on the second floor), ceiling fans, small backyard, new stove. I have a problem with packing; I can't leave it until the last week. I have to begin packing things the moment I know I'm moving. This means that though I'm not moving boxes until Thursday, I currently have squirrled away nearly everything except for one fork, a pair of socks, and the cats. There's something very satisfying about packing, in part because it forces me to get rid of things I never use or whose sentimental value I no longer recall, books I know I'll never read again (these are often the books I keep on my shelves to impress guests; novels like Sommerset M.'s Of Human Bondage which I have never read and never will; I also display all of the

The World Isn't Your Oyster

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But these additional cat pictures may make you think that it is. This first photo of Henri covered in yarn is entitled "Humiliation." The second photo of Emma Carol is called "Queen" as she is the head of everything in the house. And here we have a very disturbing trailer park trash representation of every day life with the three cats all sprawled together on the bed. Notice that Emma Carol has no shame about bearing her shaven belly (from getting fixed), that Ernesto is a delicate flower, and that Henri faces away from the camera as if to say, I am frightened. He has a long red scratch on his nose these days from a run-in with one of the other two. It is quite sad and pathetic. I confess that I'm reading Stephen King's newest novel, Lisley's Story . It's about a widow of a famous author who is haunted by all these memories of the past that she's put aside. I don't care what anyone says about SK. I know he's not the best writer in the w

The Importance of Being Ernesto

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I've been looking at summer classes that I'd like to take. I want to find something that will force me to write, the only courses are available are for non-majors and I used to teach classes like that at Penn State, so it's weird to sit in on one. I am uber snotty about it which isn't fair to the other students who have most likely never attempted to write short stories ever. But I did take a class last summer and it made me write two stories that both got published and that I would never have worked on otherwise, due to my laziness. I think of ideas for stories often, but never write them or if I do, I only manage a couple of pages before running out of steam. Sometimes, it's just a first line that I like. This one keeps running through my head: "Somewhere along the line, she had gotten fat." I wrote part of this one--it's about the 9-5 cubicle life and how this girl is surrounded by thin women with good hair who sip Diet Cokes all day and complain a

All You Need R Cats

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Shawn has created this lovely flowered picture of Emma Carol, the latest in a slew of cats that have descended into my life. Here she is in her natural, wild stumpy state. She has taken to grooming Ernesto and then fighting with him. Three cats are better than two. There is always something going on with 3 animals--most of centers around knocking things over. I started reading this really exploitive book about Andrea Yates (the mentally disturbed mom who drowned her five children one at a time in the bathtub of her house). I can't say why I picked the book up, except that it seemed like the written equivalent of a Law and Order episode and I must have been in a slightly macabre mood. However, after reading about ten pages while waiting for the #3 bus last night, I decide that I don't need to continue, even if the writer is a semi-well respected journalist who has written for the NY Times and salon.com. Two phrases struck me as incredibly bad: *When the police officers first ar

Your Sexy Snowlion Valentine

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Here is Ernesto in all of his cold glory this morning. He is so delicate. I was in New York this weekend for a conference and I believe it is even possible that the animals missed me. Henri surely did as he allows no one else to touch him. Nearly everyone has skipped work today because of the icy snow and laziness. I am here after having spent 25 minutes de-icing the car. Here are some things I saw at the conference in New York: 1. A KD Lang lesbian wearing a suit, white socks, shiny black shoes, and an exact replication of KD's Elvis without the sideburns, haircut. 2. A fat woman with a hook for a hand. She had the program clutched in it. She wasn't shy. 3. Thin, thin girl who in profile looked just like Julia Roberts except with sharper cheekbones and bangs. When she turned to look in my direction, I saw that she had a large gap between her two front teeth and little eyes. She did not stay for the full session. 4. Liz and I watched two hours of the Westminster Dog Show

Why Do I Even Care?

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Just learned via my handy cnn.com email alert that Anna Nicole Smith has died, of natural causes I'm sure. It could not have had anything to do with what I imagine was a cocktail of Valium, cocaine, white zinfadel, oxycotin and Trimspa. And even as everyone in the entire world could see that she was only alive due to her many handlers, I'm still surprised. We haven't had a celebrity death lately, not since that one old guy died. It seems that everyone is living longer and longer despite the odds. I love Clint Eastwood and I don't want him to die and he's really not that old but then you see his face on the cover of Entertainment Weekly and yes, he is kind of old, by previous decades standards. How old was John Wayne when he died? Fred Astaire? (Please don't think I'm putting ANS in the same category). We know that there are many other teen bopper celebrities who should by all rights be dead--the partiers, the ones with the eating disorders, the kids who were

Fear and Loathing

Good things today : *I have a great office now on the other side of campus with two winodws that look out onto Broad Street. I don't think I've ever had an office with windows; not in my entire professional career. *My hair is getting longer and I like it that way. I may start flipping it from side to side. *I finished my manuscript and got it to the publisher on time. Plus, our VP announced the book thing at our all staff meeting on Friday and people have been complimenting me. I will not let it go to my (long-haired) head. Bad things today: *I really really really need to shave my legs and I r, r, r don't feel like doing it. *Emma Carol (the cat) needs her stitches out and I don't feel like taking her in. Shawn thinks we can remove them ourselves and I disagree especially since her belly still looks sore and reddish. *Other.