Hartsdale Farmer’s Market, August 2009
Uncategorized
Gone.
In New York with my very best girlfriends for some quality lady time. On the agenda: a giant birthday cake, Julie and Julia, beers on the terrace, lazy summer dinners, long days in the park, experimenting with the new camera, and lots lots lots to discuss.
I’ve got some stuff planned for around here, though, so keep an eye out. Otherwise, I’ll catch you next week.
This is More Embarrassing Than My Post About the JoBros
I have this thing for Taylor Hanson.
It’s been going on a long time. Twelve years, in fact.
That’s the age of a sixth-grader. That’s the length of a prison sentence for aggravated assault.
I know this. And yet.
There’s nothing cool about Taylor. He has no sense of irony. He’s not so winkingly lame as to be awesome. He’s just….Taylor. Giant and floofty and golden-voiced and singlehandedly trying to repopulate the Earth. A father of four at the ripe old age of 26, he’s the Chinese government’s worst nightmare. In his ill-fitting, brightly colored, questionably accessorized ensembles, I’m pretty sure he’s Tim Gunn’s worst nightmare, too.
But here I am. I love this person. I’ve loved him since I was eleven years old. I don’t know why. I’m over most of my other pubescent weirdness.
Most of it.
Anyway, though you’d never know it to listen to the radio, Taylor is still plugging away at his musical career, and he and I have this deal where once or twice a year he does weird, random things, and I pay money to see them. What’s that, Taylor? You want me to walk around the grounds of Gillette Stadium barefoot in October because it will save little kids from AIDS? Sure, yes! You want me to leave your concert covered in bruises because this pregnant lady in the pit got all feisty on me? Why not? You want me to come see you dressed up in your Andy Warhol costume while you prance around with the white-haired guy from Smashing Pumpkins and the dude who wrote “Stacy’s Mom”?
Absolutely I will.
Tinted Windows is Taylor Hanson’s new(ish) supergroup, and they made their way to Boston last night, so I dragged my friend L (literally…by her hair) to check them out. They were…special. I don’t know. They were fine. Seeing Taylor without the rest of Hanson is kind of like seeing Jem without the Holograms, but no one hit me and I got to keep my shoes on, so…all in all a good night.
Right on, TayHan. See you in a couple of months.
Friday Morning Book Club
The Road: Heartbreaking. Gorgeous. The scariest thing I’ve ever read. I cried and cried. I’ve always kind of stayed away from Cormac McCarthy because I felt like he wrote boy books, but Oprah said I should read this and she was right. You should read it, too.
A People’s History of the United States, The Twentieth Century: I mean…it’s pretty much about how we should all be Communist. I like Communism more than the average bear, and still by the end I was all, “So…we’re just going to hate on Jimmy Carter (not just peanuts) and never talk about all those people Stalin killed?” But Howard Zinn is all about giving a voice to the voiceless, and he had some really interesting stuff to say about the sixties, and especially Vietnam. Jennie P, I think you’d like it a lot.
The Stone Diaries: Meh. Fine. It had one of the best-executed epistolary chapters I’ve ever read, and does a really nice job of covering a lot of time in not a lot of pages. But mostly a snooze.
The Audacity of Hope: OH HI PRESIDENT OBAMA I LIKE YOU.
I thought about calling this post “Danny Zuke-o”
Wokka wokka wokka. But I decided that was too lame even for me. You’re welcome.
ANYWAY. One giant zucchini plus flour plus egg wash plus Italian bread crumbs plus ten minutes in the oven at five hundred.
Better, I daresay, than the fried kind. And I don’t know if you know this, but I REALLY LIKE FRIED THINGS.
Attention
I unclogged a toilet this morning all by myself. With a PLUNGER.
If you need me, I will be sitting over here at my desk quietly singing “Independent Women.”
Why Yes, I Did Go See The Jonas Brothers
…aaaaand they were completely delightful.
There was fire! And rain inside in SHAPES! And three stages and laser lights and a trampoline and a white grand piano that came out of the floor and Jordin Sparks being fierce and the littlest Jonas talking about living his dreams despite his diabetes in a Serious Way and twenty thousand twelve year old girls who were happier, probably, than they’ve been all summer. All year. They screamed like their hearts would break. The dopamine was pretty intense, I am not going to lie.
I like Joe Jonas because he is the Taylor Hanson of the Jonas Brothers, but I suspect Nick is the real talent.
ANYWAY. Twenty-seven dollars well-spent, is the point I am making here.
Five Good Things: Hello, New England Edition
1. A really amazing mini-vacation to Rockport complete with a walk on the beach, dinner by the ocean, turtle ice cream in a cookie cone, and a floating piano. Pictures to come.
2. Tom’s gone for two weeks riding ice floes (can you even ride an ice floe? I don’t even know what an ice floe IS) in Alaska, so I’m a single lady until the beginning of August. On the agenda: trips to Ohio and New York to see sisters both biological and not, dinner out three nights in a row (!), and some quality time with Howard Zinn.
3. I’m teaching myself iMovie, and it turns out I’m not a total idiot. Just mostly. Anyway, it’s really time-consuming and nitpicky in a way that really appeals to my OCD.
4. Long walks to Castle Island justifying the consumption of generous handfuls of candied walnuts. What are you talking about? IT TOTALLY JUSTIFIES IT.
5. I saw the Jonas Brothers last night, and they were DELIGHTFUL. I’ll show you pictures of that, too, if you’re nice.
Happy Sunday. Be good.