Somewhere between Seattle and New York, between Germany and Japan, between home and work, I somehow lost the time to post here. Sorry about that — life’s been a bit of a blender lately.
I’d also just like to point out:
yukino in Seattle: mid-80s, sunny, blue skies.
yukino in New York: mid-60s, rainy, grey skies.
Perhaps indicative of something, I lost control of my car and drove it into the side of my house, leaving huge gaping holes in the walls. It was all in my dreams, of course, but so convincing! I lay in bed for awhile after waking, just to overcome my jitters. The meaning? Well, this one’s no mystery — always last to the game, I’ve just started the refinancing process on the mortgage, and the appraiser’s visit is impending. Hooray for my subconscious!
SIFF continues… tonight, Im Juli, a totally cute, entertaining and romantic road comedy starring Moritz Bleibtreu (of Lola Rennt). Thanks to Mina for recommending this one! It was loads of fun. Afterwards, The Sea Watches, based on a script Akira Kurosawa was working on just before his death: far more atmospheric, somewhat uneven, but extremely pretty to look at. The life and loves of a courtesan in feudal Japan! Kept thinking of Sweet Charity — maybe it’s time to rent, at long last, Nights of Cabiria.
Up for Friday: Public Enemy, from Korea, and at midnight, something called The Hebrew Hammer. Should be fun!
there’s a man in the basement who yells things into my ear when i try to sleep at night. mommy says the only way to make him stop is to put his words in a hidden place. i don’t think anyone knows i dug you up again, so you get them now.
he shouts: fear is not knowing!
every night the screams are louder. i’m afraid he’ll get into my bedroom. if he does, i’ll pretend to be asleep and hit him on the head with a broom. i did it once to mr. dipple and now he stays on the other side of the street after school. we laugh at him because the eye patch makes him look like a pirate.
he shouts: pity will not be my prison!
i can see him when i close my eyes. there’s a hole in his belly big enough to crawl into and under his shiny forehead he has no face, but i know he can hear me and smell me and see me. his not-eyes are black and his not-mouth is full of teeth. his words tumble out over his chest into the belly-hole and climb up the stairs to my door.
he shouts: acceptance is not surrender!
i hope he goes away now. i don’t know what he’s yelling about but i want him to stop. sleeping with the broom is getting uncomfortable.
wish me luck! whatever happens, i’ll let you know first.
Word of the day: arctophile - one who loves or collects teddy bears
Behind on so many projects right now, to the point that spending time thinking of blog material fills me with intense feelings of guilt. So pardon the spottiness and I should be back in a jif.
Have lately frequented the British Pantry, where I lunched fabulously today: Stilton cheeseburger with potato salad and Cock’n Bull ginger beer. Not your typical ginger beer, it’s sweet and gingery without much in the way of bite or spice. Oh, I like the sharp stuff too, but this is one marvelous brew. Earlier this week, bangers and mash, and sinfully decadent sticky toffee pudding.
Also at the pantry, I spied a can of “Stahly Vegetarian Haggis.” What?? I almost bought it for its novelty value but at $8 a pop, reason caught the better of me.
Fat Kreme a la mode?
Jill’s my hero, so in her footsteps I present:
2 oz vodka
juice from 1/2 lime
4 oz ginger beer
stir vodka and lime juice in a highball glass filled with ice. add ginger beer.
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix?
Sure, I’d be reading it, but at this very moment it’s winding its slow way southward through the Canadian wilderness and will no doubt shortly be tangled up at U. S. customs. At any rate, it won’t be in my hands for a good couple of weeks at soonest, a casualty of my obsessive quest for matching spines (love those Bloomsbury covers!). After all, what’s a few days after three years of waiting?
This means that I wasn’t in attendance at any midnight book parties on Friday night, but not entirely for why you may think. I find the idea of late night line-ups for book releases to be somewhat absurd, definitely amusing, and I say that with full confidence that under other circumstances I’d be right there in line too. It would have been a blast to have been there. Problem is, standing in line without buying is rather awkward without camouflage, and both Potter fanatics I hid behind at the Goblet of Fire release (Grimm and Louis) have, sadly, long since left Seattle. Alas, no party.
So I’m still waiting. But there is hope for that impatient corner of my mind, with news from New York that B.’s just finished Order of the Phoenix, just under nine hours after pulling it from the hands of the FedEx driver. I suspect I’ll be sneaking a couple chapters during my visit next week!
npr.org has an article on chlorophyll print photography by Binh Danh: