Saturday, July 03, 2010

mostly a linkdump,

delayed, but i liked this year's nyer fiction issue. of the bunch, there was only one story that i full on hated. it was about some guy dumping his child in a foreign country. he stuck scenes together without any discernible connection to one another. it wasn't smart. in fact, it seemed he set out to not make any sense whatsoever in an attempt to seem deep. the pieces by josh ferris and jonathan safran foer. i hated that those were my favorites but they were. i'm one of those contrarians that tries to resist the super hyped but, well, there it is. 

oh, you guys. oh. oh. oh. it's still possibly too painful to talk about but i'll try to soldier through. one of my life goals is to get stopped by the sartorialist. it's the kind of thing that would validate every single second of my life spent wondering what to wear. every single cent i've spent on clothes. it's not just about fashion though. it's about being in the right part of town at the right time. my first and maybe only encounter i'll ever have with him came a couple weeks ago. i was in the urban outfitters on 6th ave. i first saw the camera. this massive lens protruding a foot off his chest. his chest-level is just about at mine. i'm 5'1" which means he's one of the SHORTEST MEN EVER. it was leprechaun-like. he was with his girlfriend, the incredibly elegant garance dore. she, too, had a camera around her neck. and because this is new york, the #1 rule about living in new york is to NOT LOOK AT FAMOUS PEOPLE. do not gawk, do not stare, do not even acknowledge they exist. acknowledging their existence makes you look touristy and, most importantly, NOT COOL and slightly fangirlish. so i see him. i freeze. i do a 180. i look down and see i'm wearing a totally unspectacular outfit. so unspectacular that i can't even remember now what it was. i think it was a skirt and top with flats. not chic. but in my own defense, it was a monday! who can rally on a monday?! i was waiting in line at the register, keeping an eye on their location, stealthily, making sure my posture was confident and breezy (because i think the key to half the people he photographs isn't all what they're wearing, but how easily they're wearing it). but no dice. i paid and left the store feeling like i'd missed the opportunity of a lifetime. sob. 

in cleaning up my life i've been doing a good job in my apartment. i've gathered massive mountains worth of makeup and parfums and whatever else gets passed over to me in gala giftbags. new things wrapped in plastic. jewelry. stuff that i didn't want and might have tossed but then i thought, "what if i try ebay?" and wouldn't you know it? people will buy ANYTHING. i've made some $500 on ebay in the last month which isn't a fortune but it's a lot more than the zero dollars i'd have had if that 2005 chloe perfume was tossed in the dumpster. the funniest was a set of pins i obtained while in vancouver for the olympics. they were free and promotional. i threw them on ebay and somebody paid me $50 for them. people are insane!






OH! and i've recently become better looking. plastic surgery? no. weight loss? unfortunately no. I OWN AN IPHONE 4. and it's hot. and i'm hot. and i am still at the point where i just stare at it longingly. however, i don't own a bumper as all the stores sold out and i'm really not a graceful person so i'm very afraid of dropping my precious. maybe i can get one of those baby bjorn wraps so i can strap it to my chest. i facetime chatted with david and the boys out in fire island and felt like i was there with them. it was sweet. and because all my friends have the 4, we'll get to face chat whenever for whatever reason which sounds great but might turn into the thing david foster wallace prophesied in infinite jest which is something i've referenced several times over the past few weeks. that man was brilliant. 

i've maybe made a video which i'll possibly link here depending on how mortifying it is. i still shake my head here thinking about how i got wrapped into it at all and the celebrity we were making it with. it's silly. life is silly.

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