simon says suck it up.

in times like these (times of destitution, of sinusitis, and of undesired weight gain) i try to find humor wherever i can. i may have mentioned that most of my reading material has consisted of books on food ethics and nutrition. they are informative, provocative, and challenging; but sometimes all i really want is to read something that would make me laugh at the trials of life and remind me things aren't always as serious as they initially seem. kind of like the literary version of teen wolf or romy and michelle's high school reunion. i picked up a copy of ant farm, by simon rich, a year or two ago and loved it. i was on the floor laughing at the soon-to-be-divorced man who comes up with the names for crayola hues. or the man who tries to impress a girl when he lists his three desert island items and then wakes up to realize he was hitting on a government researcher who puts him to the test. most of the stories are between one and four pages, so it is the sort of life intermission that won't deter you for too long. i passed ant farm along to a friend who needed it more than i did at the time, and he returned the favor by picking up rich's second collection, free-range chickens for me as a christmas gift. it's the same sort of dark humor; concise, relevant, and hysterical. i finished it the same day he gave it to me, even after a few too many lively pints at the bar (he lives in alaska and we rarely get to see eachother anymore). there are a few excerpts on the ever watchful mahschpace for your previewing pleasure, but i have a feeling that you will not be disappointed.

and my musical ear says that the new dungen album 4 is not nearly as good as ta det lugnt. more pansy, less psych. i'm not digging it. but on a bright note, goblin cock will be coming 'round next month! huzzah!

and also, today was my kitchen triumph day, yes. and triumph i did with my homemade enchilada sauce. and again, yes, i forgot to take pictures. but i will be posting the fabulous recipe soon! and keep your fingers crossed for me tomorrow, i have a job interview. i even dyed my hair back to a normal color so i don't look so much like a gutter punk.

it's a beautiful things.

i've been lax in my communications, apologies all around. a bit financially stressed and snotty. between that and this weather? yuck. i've been doing nothing but eating butterfingers and neglecting to brush my teeth. oh, but i am moving on up and out of these depths! i am planning on buying a neti pot soon and have a job interview coming up. huzzah! to make it up to myself and both of my faithful readers, i will post my rants and raves this week (a day late) on my scheduled day of rest. and where was my craft on tuesday? what did i make? i'll tell you: i made it through one more week without decapitating myself or anyone else and sometimes that's all you can hope for. so here we go, my foray into hate and happy:

this is old news, but there is a remake of ayn rand's (lengthy but mind blowing) novel atlas shrugged in the works. i may be in the minority when i say that reading ayn rand made me the person i am. people either love her or loathe her, but most people i have talked to cannot stand her. that isn't the point of this, though. what i really want to know is who the dumbfucks are that decided to cast angelina jolie in the role of dagny taggart. really? isn't it bad enough that every reporter that interviews her strokes angie's ego like it's the head of baby jesus? and yes, we all know that you're beautiful, brad is beautiful, babies of every color are beautiful, your family is better than all of us, and you give great bitchface. but do you, saint angelina, veiny armed goddess of orphaned children everywhere, have to accept a role in which the character you are playing is, for all intents and purposes, a selfish bitch? you may have the bitch persona down, but selfish people don't become UN ambassadors. ayn rand has just died another death. angelina says she is a fan, but i have to know if she has ever read any of rand's novels? a hedonist and an objectivist are not the same thing.

and i'm so excited about this future rant, so here is a little preview...why does a woman's (or man's, though much less often) body have to be used to sell something? is that all she (or he) is really worth? coming soon, it's going to be a biggie.

and just a few of my favorite things this week, most of all being my friggin' awesome star trek TNG action figures (pictured above) that my lovely beau spotted for me in the salvation army earlier today! they were mint, still in the box, but i had to take them out and accessorize them. yes, geordi looks like he's sporting a murse, but check those dilithium crystals! and i got a borg! two borg actually but michael grabbed one for his studio. and how huge was my crush on data? infinite, and still is. ahhh, middle school. and look at what else i found! way pricey but perhaps we can band together and find a suitable facsimile? also, these altered books, which i would use as bookends if i could make them. i have neither the patience nor stamina to maim books in such a way. i respect them far too much, but aren't they pretty? and also, these magical rainbow undies! i'm ordering mine when (and it's only a matter of time) i get this job. buy yours too, and we shall have a slumber party! ther are a few other things i saw on the interweb that made my heart all fluttery, but i'm going to try to make them myself. prepare yourself for a brand new episode of "triumph or learn from desiree's mistakes" on tuesday!

alcohol, broccoli, and the correspondence of one f. scott fitzgerald.

i'm feeling a bit out of sorts today. it was probably the pitcher of amaretto sours that i (over)indulged in last night or perhaps the tequila shot i had (my first ever!). when i woke up this morning i was feeling great and was laughing in the face of a hangover threat. you will not defeat me, alcohol! fast forward about four hours and a cheeseburger later. my stummy is rolling, and i feel like the ice pick we used last night got lodged in my frontal lobe. but what fun i did have! air hockey and guitar hero and knitting and the company of some very lovely ladies. since this is my day of the week to reflect on correspondence, i decided to check out a collection of letters from a very talented alcoholic, f. scott fitzgerald. a life in letters consists of fitz's writings to editors, ernest hemmingway (another of my favorite bottle battlers), his daughter, and zelda. he was a much more productive drinker than i am. (i'm still in my jammies. it's 8pm.) and it's edited by a guy whose last name is bruccoli, which sounds a lot like one of my favorite vegetables. i'm sold.

also, i fail at guitar hero but rule at air hockey. yes.

french but not elitist, miami but not bass.

i found the contrarily (new word) named san francisco trio french miami on a recent blog search. i have been running out of pleasing ear love, and living with two musicians doesn't help as much as you think it would. french miami has been around since 2006, but i can be a little slow on the pick up. they don't have a bassist but the drums are kicky enough that you don't even notice. add some synths and a dreamy, drone-y (but far from boring) vocal sound and i get taken back to the day when dance music didn't sound like i needed a glow stick arsenal, shoegaze and punk could be thrown in a blender, math rock was just for nerds, and the nerds were the cool kids. if you know what i mean, and i think you do. check out their mythpathe and hear it for yourself. science fiction is a good track, and getting lots of bloggin' between the sheets. i'm keeping an eye on tour dates as well and will keep updates going for you locals. i hope you enjoy dancing in your room as much as i do.

and as far as literary activities go, i'm reading a lot of books on food ethics. they are taking me some time to get through. but on a lighter scene, i recently finished all about lulu by jonathan evison. the story of a rejected bodybuilder's son, his two brothers, and the stepsister he falls in love with. it is heart wrenching and miraculous in a big newsprint jellyroll.