Nazario Scenario

An Alphabetized List of the Names of the Fictional Businesses Mentioned by Name in Stories by Me

Argentina Club, a bar
Bicycle Unlimited, a bike shop
Black Fly Cafe, a coffee place
Brainworks, a bookstore
Champ's Grill, a diner
Cheese Wheel, The, a cheese shop
Chudzy's (Chudzigan's), a bar
Cudgel's, a bar
Darver's Tavern, a bar
Dugan's, a bar
From The Grounds Up, a coffee place
Grounds For Dismissal, a coffee place
Halloran's, a bar
Hatch Theatre, The, a theatre
Hotbake, a bakery
Hobo Deli, a deli
Langosta Cafe, a restaurant
Library, The, a bar
Lucky Panda, a restaurant
Raider, The, a bar
Sally in the Alley, a bar
Schoolhouse, a bar
Shandy's, a bar
Shark's Head, The, a bar
Starlites, a strip club
Stupid's, a bar
SunShineShop, a bakery
Sweet Ann's Favorites, a bar
Yuko, a restaurant

Sad

Yesterday at the writing center, I sat down to tutor a young guy who seemed very down. He'd come to ask just one question: how do you cite online databases, such as JSTOR, in the Chicago style? He already knew how to do it in MLA. But the bibliography was ten percent of his grade, and he didn't want to screw it up. "I'm barely hanging on as it is," he said.

I decided that, since JSTOR gives you two different types of articles, he could cite them in two different ways. The strictly online ones could be cited like online sources, and the scanned images of published articles could be cited like published articles. When I told him that he nodded, and said, "Okay, thanks, I have to go to sleep now." We'd been in session for about fifteen minutes.

He worked nights. It was ten in the morning and he hadn't been to sleep yet.

I was curious to know what he did, so I asked him, and he told me. I said, "That sounds like a cool job. Where is it?" He told me where it was, and then he looked at the floor and said, "I hate my job." I thought he was going to cry. Then he left.

I sat in the tutor cubicle for a moment feeling sad and confused. It was almost as if he'd passed a cloud of negativity onto me; I had no idea what to do with his sadness. This was the worst experience I've had so far with tutoring -- although I was able to help him with the one thing he asked me for, there was so much else that I was unable to help him with. I regretted not having kept him in session for the full fifty minutes, just to talk. But that would have been a little weird, too, so I guess I did the right thing.

It still kind of bothers me.

Exciting Developments in Pirate Radio

Washington Heights Free Radio is still going like sixty. Each Wednesday at seven, I barrel into Vern and Joe's apartment with my iPod and a Coke, sit down in the studio, and entertain you over the internet waves for two hours. Then, at nine, the residents take over with tunes of their own selection.

(I have always remarked to myself that it's funny how tightly-structured my show is, with the announcements and sets, where Veronica and Joe tend to just put on a whole album and then go make dinner. If I lived in an apartment with a radio station in it I'd get that way too, I think. The other week we all watched Pump Up the Volume and broadcast the audio of the film plus our couch commentary.)

Since I've made my dealie two hours long instead of one, I've had room for a brief literary reading every week. I'm excited about that part. Last time, I read a couple of short-shorts by Diane Williams, and before that a sweet-ass passage from John Dos Passos about a young stenographer on her way out of suburban DC and headed for the bigtime. Before that, I read something I'd written myself. Less interesting.

Very few things in the realm of civilized thought are absolutely true. This is absolutely true: WHFR IS FUCKING AMAZING. Joe is working on getting the shows archived (it will have to wait until he scores a really good, cheap ancient computer for this purpose); until that happens, you must tune in live. If you do, you will not be sorry.

I Love B. Kliban

He is best known for a book of cartoons called Cat, and all the calendars, mugs, etc. it spawned. But B. Kliban's non-cat-themed collections are much funnier. The New Yorker paid him a tribute in their cartoon issue last year, long overdue; however, he's one of those guys you kinda just have to discover on your own to appreciate. His sensibilities are a perfect blend of subtle and unsubtle -- a blend like this seems to me to be the essence of good cartooning. All my other favorites, too, walk that line of blunt vs. nuanced. (Matt Groening and George Booth are the two that come immediately to mind.)

I have Never Eat Anything Bigger Than Your Head & Other Drawings, which is sublime, and Two Guys Fooling Around With the Moon, from which these scans are taken. The scans are bad because I've had this book forever and have spilled stuff on the pages and buckled them.

Kliban is dead now. It's too bad.

                                          

Stumble Across

I know it is "stumble upon," not "stumble across." But I seem to use the latter construction all the time. Is it because "upon" is too archaic for me?

Moreover, does "across" really bother anyone? Do people even notice that it should be "upon"?

I know it is either "run across," or "stumble upon." They mean virtually the same thing. I guess I just like to take the best word from each idiom.

ALSO: Puppies are fuzzy.

Marketing in Action

Before I launch into this anecdote, allow me to say something very important.

I have NEVER tried online dating, and I never will. It is anathema to me. I've never even considered it. I have nothing against those who do it -- those couples in the eHarmony ads, for instance, look pretty happy -- I just wouldn't do it myself. I spend quite enough time brooding in front of my laptop without trying to conduct a whole relationship inside it. All that said, here I go with a report that's going to make me look like the biggest geek of all time (BGOAT).

So you know those Match.com ads that are on MySpace? That are made to look like they're being taken by a webcam in real time? A cute girl, all alone in her darkened room, walks over to her computer and sits down. You see her contemplating, smiling, laughing, getting a little hot (but only a little) as she reads whatever it is she's reading, presumably sent by a dude on Match.com. If you signed up with the service, this dude could be you! The scheme is pretty smart, and I have no doubt that plenty of people get taken in by it. But this is not enough to hook me, for I am a rock. Don't talk of love.

This morning, for the first time, I chanced to see the "for straight girls" version of the abovementioned Match.com ad. A young dude of about 24 sits down at his computer, in his spacious and well-lit apartment. He has blue eyes, stubble, and a pale blue button-down shirt. In the background you can see his bike in the hallway, leaning against the wall. Involuntarily, I say, "Ugh! It can't be!"

Even as I hated everything about this, I couldn't look away. No: I hated it precisely because it made me unable to look away.

The young dude smiles, just a tiny bit, as he reads whatever he's reading, his stubbly face illuminated in blue by the glow of his no-doubt-fancy computer. As I watch, I say, "Oh, I like him when he smiles." Then I feel so, so dirty.

THEN, he proceeds to TAKE OFF the button-down shirt. This cannot be borne. I want to navigate away from MySpace immediately, because I hate him and I hate this marketing ploy and I hate myself. Under the button-down shirt he's wearing a T-shirt with something comic-book-related on it (it is not from any comic book that I'd recognize, however, of course -- it's generic, like something you'd find at Target). This enrages me further. But the dude keeps smiling at his computer screen, and when he smiles he really is cute.

Finally, in a move that makes it all worthwhile, the dude shifts his body slightly to take off his shoe.

To take off his shoe!

Just like that, the ad once again has my RAPT attention.

The shoe? Yes. Of fucking course. A cowboy boot, which he nonchalantly tosses behind his chair, paying it little mind because he's so engrossed in what we can assume is his Match.com romance. A cowboy boot.

I am just now remembering a pair of socks that Karolyn bought for me once, years ago. They were white, with black embroidered "writing" all over them that said "I LOVE BOYS I HATE BOYS I LOVE BOYS I HATE BOYS..." from ankle to toe. I took these socks straight to my heart, and wore them out.

We Are All Dave's Children

Dave Kim is having Thanksgiving at his apartment, which is located two blocks from my apartment. He said it would be a vegetarian meal. Actually he said, "Carnivores will have to bring their own bird and eat it on my fire escape with the window closed and a sign taped to the glass that says: 'Morality-Free Zone: Eating of Innocent Animals In Progress.'"

Shay said fine then, he would bring something dead for the rest of us, who were real human beings, to eat. He added, "There's no such thing as an innocent animal. They are all guilty of being delicious."

My oven is broken, but Toronto-bound Vern gave me a Tupperware of mashed sweet potatoes and a box of Franzia chablis to bring, compliments of her. I just carried 'em home on the subway on my knees. If Euro-Pain is still open after I walk my final dogs in a couple hours, I will also bring a fant-sy punkin pie.

Post-dinner, during the boozing hour, we expect Alison, Amy, Kara, Raymond, and Jeff. For boozing.

I love you guys. Happy Thanksgiving.

Business Correspondence

Amanda Nazario

show details Nov 15 (6 days ago)

Reply

Dear Me,

You must take care of this Opium problem. Please email the two
short-shorts for the Opium bookmark contest to yourself, and then
submit them using a PC. The reason why they aren't going through is
because you have a Mac, I think. If that doesn't work, send that Opium
guy an email. I can't remember his name. Something Zuniga.

Also: think of what short-short you'd like to submit to the new
Writer's Digest contest. I nominate "Fernie," or, if you don't want to
beat the dog-walking thing to death, "Matt."

Also: You really must revise "The Tide" to make it awesomer, and make
the few tiny changes to "Matt" to make it just as awesome as can be.

All the rest of the work you need to do goes without saying.

Love,
Amanda

Reply

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Amanda Nazario

show details Nov 15 (6 days ago)

Reply

Thank you very much for these important reminders.

I will do all of these tasks, and also download or buy (in a store)
the song "Take a Look at my Girlfriend" by Supertramp.

xoxoxox!
Amanda

Birthday Wishes

In under two months, I will turn 30.

I'm compiling a birthday wish list and putting it on the sidebar.

Much more important than any gifts I receive, though, is the wonderful birthday party to which you're all invited. Seriously. Everyone who reads this post is invited to my birthday party; if you are reading this post right now and do NOT come to my birthday party, I'll feel snubbed. You knew you could never hide behind your IP address.

Save The Date: Friday, January 18, 2008.

More on this subject later. Now I write, and guzzle coffee to stave off Sleep-Deprasaurus.

***

Tonight is URBANA's ten-year anniversary party, and the launch of Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz's book Words in Your Face. I will be reading a short piece or two. Come on down to the BPC, starting at 7, because we'd love to have you.

The Names

Naming characters can be difficult. The other night at Suspicious Pancake, I read a story involving a character named "Kenny." Shay asked me afterward, "Oh snap, is that the Kenny from the writing center?" (Okay, Shay did not use the words "oh snap," but it was said in that cadence.) The awkwardness is unavoidable; you live long enough, you're going to know someone named Kenny. The Kenny in my story was not, in fact, based on Kenny from the writing center.

In "The Birder's Wife," the main character, Erica, goes to a bar in Cedar Falls and meets the members of a local rock band. When I wrote the first draft of that story in 2005, the band was called "Alpha Dog." I thought this fit nicely with the naturalism/biology motif of the story. But then that movie Alpha Dog came out. I changed the name of the band to "VHS," which is not as good.

In the story I'm working on now, there is a character named Glory who used to be named Lucy. I still think of her as Lucy when I'm composing scenes in my head, but I know she shouldn't be Lucy -- she's seven years old and has offbeat parents who would think "Lucy" too trendy, too popular. Still, forcing the "Glory" on her has been challenging; I think the integrity of her character may have suffered. Luckily, she's tough. I think she can take it.

Extra: now that I'm taking a fish oil tab every morning to strengthen my hair and nails, everything in my life is perfect.