Verbal Crutches I Want To Avoid When I Speak On-Mic
"In any case"
"Aforementioned"
"Of course"
"We heard from..."
"Strap yourselves in!"
"...Right? RIGHT?"
7 - 8 PM on Wash Heights Free Rad.
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Know These
It is "free rein," not "free reign." If you give someone free rein, you're letting go of their reins. ("Reins" are straps of leather that are part of a horse's bridle and used to control/steer the horse.) This one is especially vexing because "free reign," though incorrect, totally makes sense in the same context most of the time.
Also: you "rack" your brain, you don't "wrack" it. Similarly confusing.
Boulevard
There's a great symposium in the new issue of Boulevard that discusses writers under 35. Authors both in and out of that age group weigh in on the problem (or, alleged problem) of waning literacy among young people -- not a new topic, but one that's discussed with new insight and sensitivity here. What I found funny was that so much more optimism and faith came from older writers than from my own generation of cynics.
Anyway, you can pick the mag up at your local fancy newsstand or fancy bookstore. I got it in the mail because I entered a contest of theirs.
Remember That Thou Art Dust
Yesterday, as I was walking down Broadway in the nineties, I saw an old man wearing a surgical mask over his nose and mouth. Instead of being concerned for him, I felt vindicated and triumphant. So it's NOT just my imagination; there IS a ton of dust in the air these days! Thanks, old man!
A lot of construction is going on in the west nineties right now, where I work. They're redoing the 96th street subway platform, too. All the dust and grit floating around, coupled with the histamines from plants, is making people sneeze and cough. My contacts get so cloudy that I have to take them out when I come home. And now I have a sore throat, also attributable to the gross dust. There's asbestos in that, right?
Anyone want to go to the country?
On Our Block, All Of The Guys Call Her Flamingo
Since Monday, I have been on a music-buying crash diet. I am not to buy any music for a month -- this means no Amazon orders, no thrift-store records, and no iTunes downloads. Nothing, even if I can get it for a nickel. I'm eager to see how much money I will have saved by the time May 21 rolls around; however, right now I am going out of my fucking mind. I didn't realize just how accustomed I'd become to going online and ordering items whenever the fancy struck.
I don't download music for free. If I did, this would be easier.
Please note that during my four-week hiatus I will not refuse mix tapes and other gifts of music from concerned well-wishers. Please note also that I've become obsessed with the song "Pretty Flamingo" and would really like every existing recording of it, including the Rod Stewart cover.
By the way, I'm writing a short story (another one) in which pop music figures moderately. And I can't wait until it's finished, because I like it.
SPRING BREAK!
The Best Song in the World
I mean it this time.
"Mi Niña Lola" by Pepe Pinto.
In Dreams Begin Responsibilities
Last night and the night before I had blockbuster anxiety dreams, which is odd because I haven't been feeling particularly anxious. Here they are:
1. I'm taking care of three dogs: a Boxer, a little Sheltie, and Riley, who is a real dog I know, a reddish Golden Retriever mix. The care of these dogs involves letting them run beside me while I ride my bike; I ride over hills in a dry, Southern-California-like area with the three dogs running along, leashes attached to my handlebars. The path I'm riding on runs parallel to a busy highway. It becomes difficult to pedal and I realize that my tires need to be filled. I pull into a gas station and use their pump, but as I push away I see that my front tire is swelling up and rubbing against the brake, so that I can't move the bike at all. The tire becomes gigantic and swollen, like, spherical, and then it pops. At that moment, all three dogs run away across the busy highway and the Sheltie gets hit by a car. I get across the street to where she is crying and dragging herself along, obviously really hurt, but she is on the other side of a fence and I can't reach her. Riley stays right beside me, but when I reach for his collar he feints and moves away like it's a game. And the Boxer bolts away and is totally gone.
2. I'm working as a babysitter/nanny for two boys, aged around eleven and thirteen. As I let them into their apartment after picking them up from school, they start fighting over a laptop one is carrying, and over some email conversation they've been having with a girl in their school. They're kind of grubby, unlikable boys, with bowl haircuts and soda stains on their shirts and sticky fingers. Suddenly, as I'm trying to mediate their argument, I realize I'm scheduled to read poetry at a venue in a different part of town. I leave the boys hoping I can make it back before their mom gets home. When I get to the poetry venue a few of my poet friends are already there; they tell me I need to perform a fifteen-minute set. I'm not prepared at all, so I spend everyone else's sets writing a new poem in my notebook. I'm aware that the poem is going to be awful, and as I write, the notebook gets all grubby and sticky as if it has been handled by the two unpleasant brothers.
***
On a lighter note: hey, does anyone want a puppy? My boss's hairdresser's Dachshund had six puppies a couple of weeks ago, all girls. The dad is a Jack Russell. I haven't seen the dogs in question, but I have no doubt that they're tiny, soft, squirmy, and snuggly. As adults they may bark a lot, though, knowing both those breeds. If you're interested, just let me know and I can set up a meeting.
Hear Ye: Vocabulary Edition
I am levying a protest against tongue-in-cheek use of the word "shenanigans," which has mushroomed since the movie Juno came out. The word is EVERYWHERE -- most conspicuously in the mouths of high-school kids on the subway, on websites/message boards, and in people's emails. To me. Can we stop with this? I laughed at that line too, when I saw the movie, but I've had enough. You're sarcastic and spunky and smart, just like Juno! So learn some more words already!
For now, if you're looking for words to replace "shenanigans," permit me to recommend these:
"Scrapes"
"Misdeeds"
"Deviltry"
"Mischief"
"Transgressions"
"Errant behavior"
"Sneaky feats"
Sewanee, how-I-love-ya-how-I-love-ya
Yesterday, as if it weren't enough to have had a beautiful sunny day of record shopping and Thai-food eating, I came home to find some great news in the mail. I got a scholarship to the Sewanee Writers' Conference!
I'm still waiting to hear about the other scholarship I applied for, at a conference that takes place at the same time. But it's such a thrill to know that Sewanee wants me this summer. I'm psyched.
