Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Daily Dose

From Mrs. Dalloway, by Virginia Woolf


"Human nature, in short, was on him -- the repulsive brute, with blood-red nostrils."

From page 92

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

One Minute of Me

The Serial Doodler from Mathilde Gilling on Vimeo.

A girl bought one of my little books and I signed it for her.  She's a beautiful, tall creature with a charming accent and eyes one could fall into.  Later, she came back and interviewed and filmed me.  Here's the delightful result, if I do say so.  Thanks, Mathilde.

Daily Dose

From As They Were, by M. F. K. Fisher


"Coming back toward the hotel I stopped at the one little pastry shop I saw open, and bought a heavy-looking sausage roll and talked with the comparatively friendly woman there, about the weather of course, and then the gastronomical hazards of being a stranger in a town closed for the winter season."

From About Looking Alone At a Place

Monday, December 8, 2014

A Caricature

Daily Dose

From The Horse's Mouth, by Joyce Cary


"Now the truth was I was so sick of those feet that I could have knocked my head on the walls.  It wasn't that they were hopeless.  Thet still had some sense in them.  I could still feel that there was something there.  Something real.  But it kept on fleeing away from me."

From Chapter 31

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Ayelet Waldman's Diary, 1982: "Not Elected Prom Queen!"

Selections from April 20, 1982, 12AM:

"Dear Diary: I am really not dealing well with having failed to make it onto the Prom stage.  I am a great fucking girl."

"Dear Diary: I never complain about this shit, but there are MANY kids on that court who's outfits were NOWHERE near as good as mine."

"Dear Diary: What did they mean by 'Notable'? How does a chick in a mediocre dress count as 'notable' when one in an almost new Norma Kamali doesn't?"

"Dear Diary: Sometimes just being voted 'most likely to marry Jackson Browne' totally sucks. If it weren't for my actual interest in singer/songwriters, I think I'd go back to concentrating on my AP classes."

"Dear Diary: It's just so fucking demoralizing.  You pour your heart into learning to dance to Rock Lobster the correct way, just like the video, everybody says you 'ROCK' and then the Prom Committee says you're not 'Notable.'  (Bitches.)"

"Dear Diary: I'm sorry I'm being such a pussy.  There are real problems in the world. (Free Mandela!) I'm just going to suck it up and do something good for someone else."

"Dear Diary: For every one who voted for me -- thanks, Mikey -- I will donate one dollar to The Falklands Relief Fund. Fuck the Prom Committee."

"Dear Diary: You know the difference between me and those other girls at my table?  I express the hurt and then channel it into something useful, like Falklands Relief."

Selections from April 20, 1982, 7AM:

"Dear Diary: I've spent the morning on my couch, sobbing about not being included in Prom Court. I mean, what the FUCK? I know I looked good. And, forgive me, but I know I'm better than some of the hosers on this list. But I need to stop raging and turn my fury and despair into something productive. Mom, Dad, Mikey, -- Jackson! -- could you PLEASE, if you love me (or like me a little) just support me? If you do, I'll donate a buck for every AP class I pass to the Falklands.  Bake-Sale to follow."

"Dear Diary: Sure, I should have just eaten some chocolate and been bitter and sad in private like everyone else. But that, alas, is not who I've ever been. Prom and impulse control issues are not the finest of bedfellows. For better or worse (and certainly worse tonight), I made the foolish mistake of venting in public about my disappointment. It's tempting, given the response, just to shut down The Official Jackson Browne Fan Club. But then I'd lose a public forum to share recommendations for songs I love or organizations I feel do critically important work. I wouldn't hear about other people's new work or great efforts. (This means you, Miss Becker -- Best Faculty Adviser Ever!)
Ridgeway High School is full of outlets and individuals waiting for someone to make a mistake so they can leap on in a frantic game of gotcha! And I sure do seem to make it easy for them with my big mouth. Last night wasn't the first time I've run afoul of them, nor will it be the last. Nor was this a particularly brutal whirlwind. Nasty and unpleasant, sure, but there have been countless girls subjected to infinitely more vicious Ladies' Room outpourings.
I'm just going to hunker down and try to remember next time to think before I vent."

Selection from April 21, 1982, 2PM:

"Dear Diary: Has the list of Most Notable Hissy Fits of 1982 been published in the New York Times yet?!  I SO regret leaving Prom early.  Mikey called."

Daily Dose

From Running with Scissors, by Augusten Burroughs


"Like a sheep or a dog that can predict an earthquake, I had always been able to sense when my mother was about to go crazy.  Her speech quickened, she stopped sleeping and she developed a craving for peculiar foods, like candle wax."

From Life in the Great Outdoors