January = doom

I was going to write a cute, snappy intro to take the load off this entry, but screw it. It's late and I'm a bit of a wreck so I'm getting right to the point: first Brad Renfro and now Heath Ledger?? What the hell is going on?? I can't say I was ever completely infatuated with either of them; I never had lip-gloss-kiss-covered posters of them or anything, but... damn. I suddenly feel like pieces of my youth are being torn away. And I was just starting to gain some respect for Heath Ledger. Maybe this just hits me so hard because I worked another shitty, 10+ hour day and didn't sleep well again. But... still.

The Boss threw out the foreboding warning that these things happen in threes and someone was bound to be next. And then I got home and found out Bill, my old Lighting professor from college, died last night. He had cancer and we all saw it coming, but that doesn't make it any better. Maybe he doesn't complete the celebrity triumvirate The Boss was darkly predicting, but he's a celebrity to anyone who went through his fundies class at UVM. He scared the crap out of you on the first day, but by the end of the semester you were asking him to please please let you hang from the ceiling to focus that Leko.

OK, I'm going to attempt to rescue this post from the pit of depression it's sliding into. Let's remember the people who are still living and still get along and love spending time with one another:


Wait... what? I think this was taken in a parallel universe where January = happy happy fun time. (Thanks, NY Times. Look at me, crediting your image)

Here's hoping that tomorrow brings happier news...

At least I'm not punching someone's teeth out...

When I have one of those shitty, 10-hour, nonstop days, sometime I think about that group therapy scene in Fight Club. You know, the one where Ed Norton is at one of those sad groups where people are dying and they're all doing guided meditation and that lady is telling everyone to "go to your caaaaavvvvve." And then Ed disappears into a silent icy world with a giggling penguin as his "power animal." Awww. So I that's exactly what I did after my shitty day today.

That is, if by "going to my cave" we mean cooking a massive batch of blondies AND ginger cookies, drinking gin and orange juice (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind), and catching up on old podcasts of All Songs Considered. Yeeeeeah.

So... maybe not a cave at all, but I'm still holding out for Helena Bonham Carter to show up.

"Le vrai Moleskine n'est plus"

I finally, finally got my 2008 Moleskine last Friday and I swear I am a much better person now. My heart rate has slowed, my cholesterol is lower, and I can speak Czech again. It's amazing.

I've learned my lesson for sure, though, that I cannot wait until after the start of the new year to buy one next time. Being the cheapskate I am, I thought that this would ensure me scoring one at half price, especially with the abundance of them in a large city like New York. Riiiight? Nope. Instead it ensured a NEAR EXTINCTION of them which led to ensuing panic that I would not be able to organize my life on one full page per day for all of 2008. OK, by "NEAR EXTINCTION" I mean impossible to find at major bookstores and many art stores between Houston and 70th St of Manhattan. It doesn't take much to make me panic.

ANYWAY. After calls to multiple Barnes & Nobles and a wild goose chase on foot to multiple locations, I finally found it at Lee's Art Shop on 57th after some divine intervention from a woman at Borders who directed me there. I snatched it up with a gasp as soon as I saw it, afraid that someone else might take it first. Although there were about 10 others on display. And clearly no one cared about them but me.

And so, Lee's Art Shop, thank you for selling Moleskine planners, thank you for putting up with my exhausted ramblings of joy, and thank you for being YOU. Everyone: go shop there.

Shall I continue my ramblings? Sure. In going through the process of transferring the many important dates from the old planner to the new, I came across some words I scrawled across the page of Sunday, May 27 . I often use the Moleskine as a journal/diary/whatever when I really need to get something out of my brain and onto paper. I have no idea what the circumstances were here, probably 365-related, but I appreciate them in retrospect:

Why do I have this sudden rush of cocky euphoria? A confidence to do everything and be awesome and say fuck you to everyone in my way? But I'm happy about it too, whatever "it" is. Even though half my electricity's out and I just ate about 18 cookies and 3 glasses of wine and I've spent half the day on the subway, I still feel generally euphoric. It's like, I'm going to be amazing at life. HA.

I don't know if the "HA" is meant to be self-doubting or an "in-your-FACE" kind of thing, but I wish I felt generally euphoric like this more often. And had cookies and wine so close at hand. Good thing I got a larger-sized Moleskine this year - more room for random scrawlings. Get ready.

Happy 2008 (minus a few days).