Month: September 2003 (Page 7 of 7)

In Borders yesterday, I saw one of those self-help books that had the subtitle, “Don’t be ashamed of your mistakes.” It gave me an overwhelming impulse to write a book titled, “Be ashamed of your mistakes!”

I think it would sell millions.

I also saw a new book by David Limbaugh, “Persecution: How Liberals Are Waging War Against Christianity.” In the author blurb they refer to him as “brother of [blah blah blah] Rush Limbaugh.” I thought to myself, how much would it suck to have to refer to your famous brother on your own book jacket? I’m certainly not going to mention my brothers on *my* book jacket, no matter how famous they are at the time. That’s a deal-breaker, if you ask me.

Two developments on the “actually getting something productive done” front: I finally ordered promotional postcards from PsPrint, which I think turned out well; and I’ve been working on a redesign of my business site. Any feedback would be appreciated. (UPDATE: already incorporated several suggestions from John.)

On a sidenote, I would definitely recommend PsPrint. They give you lots of help and templates to make sure your files turn out well, and their online workflow and ordering systems are great.

I read two memoirs over the holiday weekend: “Tender at the Bone” by Ruth Reichl (a gift from my estimable friend Lisa), and “Running with Scissors” by Augusten Burroughs. As it turns out, they’re both about the authors’ unconventional childhoods and their mentally ill mothers. But other than that, they’re miles apart.

Reichl’s is light and breezy, even when discussing her mother’s illness, and focuses on the food she ate and cooked in her hippie/preppy odyssey through childhood and young adulthood. Burroughs’ account is darkly funny at times but mostly harrowing, as he’s shuttled from one (literally) crazy group of people to another. I guess I would say Reichl’s was a little too light for my taste, and Burroughs’ a little too dark.

One thing I find fascinating about memoirs is how some people can reconstruct detailed memories of long-ago events, conversations and emotions. My friend Paul has a memory like that – I bet he could write a fascinating memoir. But me, I have trouble with yesterday. (Maybe that’s why I’m so hooked on this most immediate of mediums, the web.) Since I’m on this memoir kick, maybe someone can recommend one that would be “just right” for me.

Lonely

Andrea and MDT haven’t written anything worth puncturing in weeks. Too bad. I’m feeling a little scrappy today.

Where’s my damn apology?

-Madeline Zane, Unknown News (via Barney Gumble)

That’s a damn good question.

Cartoon of the Day

“Just be glad you have a job!”
-Boy on a Stick and Slither

Most of the time, I’m glad I don’t have a job.

For those who are interested, I uploaded some pictures (with captions!) from my Vegas trip to my TypePad. Enjoy.

Things I Learned About Vegas

I’m back from the big family reunion. My mother sat next to a man on the plane who looked exactly like an Easter egg, complete with a yellow-and-white striped polo shirt. The elevators to our hotel rooms were right by the Keno lounge, where people sit and blankly stare at the Keno numbers flashing up on the screen, their complimentary cocktail lazily in hand. (I had a strange compulsion, as we were leaving this morning, to grab the microphone and start shouting nonsense numbers: “MINUS 23! DOUBLE 11s! 4,000!”)

Some things I learned about Las Vegas, where I had never been before and, god willing, will never return:

1. It’s HOT.

2. Everything is much farther away than you think it is, because there isn’t anything blocking your view, and the casinos are all unimaginably large. So you can walk outside and say, “The Stardust is just up the street! Let’s go!” and three hours later, your dried husk is found on the sidewalk, clutching an empty water bottle.

3. Everyone walking towards you in these giant throngs of humanity is going to play chicken with you, walking straight at you until the very last microsecond, when they’ll veer unpredictably away.

4. Asking for directions is stupid and just wastes time. The directions will be either totally wrong, or so complicated they evaporate from your dehydrated brain the instant you walk away.

5. Did I mention it’s HOT?

6. A $12 roller coaster ride couldn’t possibly be worth the price, unless possibly oral sex was offered at the conclusion. Which it wasn’t.

7. I wasn’t surprised at the scale of Vegas – it’s pretty much what I expected in that regard. What did strike me was the fakeness of everything. And not just that everything was fake, but how they reveled in the fakeness. Even things that could have been real were made fake instead, at great expense.

8. It’s LOUD. That ringing of the slot machines seeps into your soul; you don’t realize how LOUD it is until you finally find someplace that’s even slightly quiet.

9. Lots of the entertainment at my favorite hotel, the Venetian, apparently consisted of costumed people standing motionless like mannequins, to the delight of passing crowds. This now joins “giant Japanese carp” on the list of things that freak me out on principle.

So how was your weekend?