Okay. These are the things I need to tell you.
1. David Foster Wallace is dead. And oh, how that just sucks. Sucks! Agh! Jeff is now reading Girl with Curious Hair, and I’m spending a lot of time thinking about the night we saw Mr. Wallace at a reading many years ago. He was terribly sweaty and he couldn’t drink enough water and he read from a book he was working on titled Brief Interviews with Hideous Men. And he was so funny and so smart—one of those guys you just sort of want to be around. (If you’re not familiar with David Foster Wallace and you can spare six minutes, go here.)
2. Last night I experienced a really bizarre sort of sensitivity in my fingertips. Shut up. I know! When it came time to change the sheets, I could barely stomach the thought of touching them. As I lounged in bed reading, I could barely turn the pages of my book without wincing. I’m one of those odd people who hates touching food unless it’s covered in some sort of crust, so I’m sort of used to a bit of weirdness. (I’ll make the occasional exception for Doritos, but don’t ever ask me to eat hot wings without the assistance of a fork and knife. By the way, I’m closing in on the Vegetarian for Two Months mark. Release the doves!) Anyway, this morning I’m able to touch things without wanting to vomit, so back to business.
3. As of today, I’m once again a freelancer. My latest (and possibly greatest) assignment is to mimic nurse and doctor handwriting on medical forms that will eventually become part of a hospital simulation for medical students. This morning I went out and purchased pens for the project. And the purchasing of pens is pretty high on my list of Things I Love to Do. Adding to the excitement is the fact that this morning handed me a little touch of cardigan weather. It doesn’t get much better than this.
4. On Friday, I’ll be participating on a panel (Hey! Where can I purchase some P stock? Purchasing of pens! Participating on a panel!) that’s part of the St. Louis Interactive Festival. (I’ll give you more details later this week if you’re interested.) Also, next weekend is my 20th high school reunion. Anyway. Last night I had a dream during which someone from my graduating class handed me a beer bottle full of spit right before my panel was set to begin. And I drank the spit before I realized it was spit, and everyone was laughing, and as I made my way to the stage, I realized that my dress was all ripped out on the sides, and I muttered something into the microphone that I thought was sort of clever, but it ended up stirring up major conflict between Black Hockey Jesus and Laid Off Dad.
5. On Saturday night, I had a telephone conversation with Mr. Jon Deal regarding web site switcharoo business. And during our talk, I realized that I am completely incapable of learning anything new that doesn’t involve icy cold vampires falling in love with truck driving high school girls. This whole discouraging “My brain is no longer sharp” thing reminds me of a meeting I once attended during which my boss confessed to “needing some ginkgo balboa” to improve his brain function. At the time, I suggested he sign up for a few matches with Rocky Biloba instead and Ha Ha Ha! That’s not so funny anymore. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
Me too! (About the vegetarian almost 2 months thing)
Me too! (About loving pen shopping. Although I’ve recently hit a plateau in the quest for new pens. I have officially tried them all.)
Me too! (About only learning new things regarding the truck-driving high school girls)
Just thought I’d commiserate.
Oddly, this is not unlike many of my Monday meetings.
And the touching thing? I just watched something on people who taste shapes and see colors when certain words are uttered–can’t remember the exact term right now maybe synesthesia?–apparently we all have a bit of this. Maybe your sense of touch is co-mingled with another sense? Or you’re just weird. ;)
he was so funny and so smart—one of those guys you just sort of want to be around.
I almost thought DFW’s suicide was a hoax– some kind of twisted joke. I’m stunned, and saddened.
McSweeney’s is going to post some tributes later today, I think.
DFW’s suicide destroyed me. I may have to stop reading books.
You dream bad. Not good dreams. Stop.
Some people are far too sensitive of souls to live in this strange world.
Do you ever email a list of your top ten favourite books to people who have had the life sucked out of them recently by the act of reading terrible books?
ahhh…new pens. Not many people understand the pure joy that comes from a good pen purchase.
And also? I love that you eat wings with knife and fork. This makes me feel quite a bit better about myself. If nothing else, I now feel like I can tell everyone who makes fun of me for doing so to shove it.
I bought some pens just YESTERDAY and afterward I went home to change my panties. It makes me that. hot. to purchase them.
I’ll bring you one for Friday’s panel. Where we’re speaking. I know, right?
Another change of panties coming right up.
On Woot.com today, they have five fancy pens for $9.99. Pens! Lovely pens! I work at Staples and we sell ridiculous $40 pens, so that price for FIVE makes me sadly excited.
Congratulations on freelancing! And needing fancy pens.
I could totally take Laid-Off Dad.
I’m ashamed to say that I’d never heard of David Foster Wallace (at least I don’t think so) until you mentioned him. But then I started reading up on him and oh my gosh! Amazing talent. How sad.
I’d pay money to see Black Hockey Jesus and Laid-Off Dad in a cage match.
Congrats all around.
Good luck at the panel. I was hoping to go, but alas not this year.
one of those brief interviews—the one with the law student knocked senseless by the story of the hippie girl who escaped murder—that was one of the best stories I ever read, and to hear him read it was sublime.
DFW…I don’t like it but I get it.
I eat meat with my eyes closed.
Change the sheets when?
We have way too much cardigan weather here (Seattle). And, wow, i wasn’t sure I had the right site when i clicked over. But the writing is definitely yours.