1. adios, perez hilton
First, I would like to waste time in more intelligent ways. B’s idea of a lazy Sunday was reading The Economist on the stationary bike or trolling the inte
I believe all this is a negative side effect of having semi-successfully transformed my hobbies into a job—I like to go to arty events, and now attending readings is part of my day job. I like to write, and now I moonlight as a novelist. Despite being unpaid and marginally published, I take the latter gig seriously enough that it doesn’t feel like relaxation.
So all that’s left when I want to kill time is the stuff no one would ever pay me to do, stuff involving magazines, blogs and large bowls of cereal. Actually, I realize people have paying gigs related to all of these things, and there was even a time when I was paid to watch TV (during which I hated watching TV). So maybe the real issue is that I have a very large stupidity lobe in my brain that needs to be nurtured regularly.
2. hola, whomever
Second, I would like to be more outgoing. I had this thought after buying a bowl of laksa (bright yellow coconut soup swimming with tofu and fish balls) from
“I didn’t want to be that person who was like, ‘Hey! I went to
3. i don’t count this as time-wasting because it cost $8.75
There was nothing to be done about it, though, so we finished our lunch and saw Across the Universe across the street at the Grove. Plot-wise, it wasn’t so different from that 1999 TV miniseries The Sixties, and I had hardly been craving a montage of archetypal characters that captured the spirit of a decade whose spirit has been captured many, many times. But if such a movie must be made, Julie Taymor is the one to do it. The movie is as visually lush as the arrangements of the Beatles’ music are spare, with a nice blend of conceptual, puppet-laden numbers and sweet solo croonings.
I also now have a medium-sized crush on T.V. Carpio, who plays a queer cheerleader tu
It was interesting seeing such a big, broad, gorgeous movie after reading American Woman, which covered much of the same territory in a completely opposite way: intimate, quiet, painted with tiny pointillist brush strokes, nearly 400 pages. Both Taymor and Susan Choi know how to make the best of their forms.