blackberry maladies

At the tail-end of my daily browsing quota here, and I found this crazy crazy picture on Gizmodo.

It's RIM's new patent for Blackberry keyboards with waves and angles and numbers coming out of it.... but it looks like it maybe has Dutch Elm Disease.

I s'pose, like my artificial sweeteners, I really don't want to know what goes into my Blackberry.  I just want to uuuse it without being afraid of its mad brain cancer-inducing, carpal tunnel-causing aura.

(P.S.: There is a very loud owl outside my window!!  I didn't even know they liked Beverly Hills --I didn't even know they really made such strong and well-pronounced noise..)

Christmas? -- Oh, you mean Laker game

It's Christmas. Usually, we like to pretend something fancy. You know, fake celebrate.

This year, though, my family indulged in our distinct disinterest in the whole Christmas thing (aside from those 12 sugar cookies in my tummy) and went to the Laker game.

Oddly, we're complete Laker fanatics, but have never been interested in actually going to the games, mostly because of acute superstitions that the place and position in which you are sitting directly dictates the team's luck....

For example, at home, my mom and dad will be sitting at the kitchen table watching the Lakers. We will start to lose. Someone will be decided(/accused) as the bad luck-bringer, and will then be forced out of the room, or even out of the house. If it is an especially important game, my parents will likely start in separate rooms, or separate wings, even. In times of desperation, outsiders will be called in for viewing support. It's true: some people, when they contribute their energy towards the game, bring good luck. Usually I get kicked out before the first quarter even ends.

The logic about attending the games is: if you're sitting in a single seat at Staples Center, you can't really switch seats if the team starts to lose. You're stuck in the one perspective, helplessly.

Luckily, I think today disproved that theory -- we had a great time, got to sit in a fun little luxury box in which we could move around, and we beat Phoenix (another team I've always liked; in my high school stint as a fantasy basketball player, I would be well-advised by other, more NBA-savvy friends, to put Amare Stoudemire and Shawn Marion on my teams, in addition to Steve Nash, who was not yet on the Suns but whom I also loved.)

We were also excited to be at the game after the game in which Kobe became the youngest NBA player to make his 20,000th career point, and to properly celebrate it through lots of cheering, the continued chant of "MVP" every time Kobe was up for a free throw, and a little presentation at one of the time outs with some very serious musical accompaniment to honor the event.

Overall, a good experience, and already thoughts about purchasing further tickets -- then again, things would probably be very different if we'd lost. We'd probably never go back to a Laker game again. My parents wouldn't be speaking to each other. And maybe a law suit in there somewhere. Oh, god.

Final notes:

-Phil Jackson, whose picture still hangs on the wall in the room in which I grew up, looked crazy. They aren't putting up any of the pictures of him from tonight yet, but you can see in the lower left corner in this picture of Trevor Ariza shooting— he's wearing a polka-dotted bowtie with a black suit and shirt. Whoa. It's awesome:

-Here's an article on the game from another Crossroads alum, J.A. Adande, that also mentions Phil's silly red bow-tie.

(On the book-a-day thing from the last post: I've been suprisingly good about it. It's been more or less a book a day. --And you doubted me!!! Pshh. More later.)

-Zgzlda

a book a day

When my little sister and I were younger, my mom used to try to get us to read by bragging that when she was in college, she'd read a book a day.  We both enjoyed reading anyways, but I think maybe she just wanted to make us jealous of how much she'd read, hoping we'd emulate.

Sometimes, it worked — but when I finally had time to read a book a day (summer, winter, spring breaks...), and would decide on a book list, I could never really pull through, mostly because I'm just so frustratingly slow.  I can't move on until I've absorbed every single word on a page; I read less efficiently, but I'm also good at recalling things I've read.  To be honest, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Now that I'm starting the last winter break of my foreseeable future, I've decided to reinstate the book-a-day goal.  It probably won't work, but I'm making it easier on myself by  including magazines as eligible items.  So, after having linked to her site here on the blog, I read Miranda July's book of stories, No one belongs here more than you, which makes for a really fun read as well as a pretty great present.  I gave it to my adviser, as well, and was glad I did.  

(There's a definite guilt thing going on here about linking to or referencing someone, and then feeling like I should read the book, and then buying it and reading it.  This is the third time this has happened.)

Today, I finished July (and felt like it was acceptable given the regulations because I really only started it 24 hours ago), and then I sunk and read the Pottery Barn catalogue, which I take a special pleasure in reading, especially around the holidays.  Most people would hesitate to admit that kind of thing, but they probably haven't picked up the Pottery Barn catalogue recently, either.  (They probably also spend more money on things that are made look cheap.  Fuck.  I hate that I know people like that.)

Now I'm hooked on the idea of this faux fur throw pillow/blanket set (pillows are $24 in magazine - I've memorized the prices, but can't remember ever having bought anything from a magazine).  They look comfy and bachelorette-ish.  One of my best friends, who consistently drops hints that it's weird how much I love/am blatantly willing to wear fur, would probably make a lot of fun of me for it, but I can't help how fond I am of the hunting lodge look (er...see first post for obvious, permanently ingrained reasons why..).

my study songs; like other people's sex songs.

Everyone has favorite music for different activities.... like sex songs, or sleep songs; in my current subterranean bookish state, this translates to study songs.

I'm a big fan of writing/studying/working to high-tempo songs on repeat.....

Used to be Nelly Furtado "Do It."

Zanna just pointed out that I've listened to "Starry-Eyed Surprise" 98 times.  I can't remember when that might have been.... must have been a study song at one point.

Whoa this is going to sound silly, but Prince's "Kiss" is an awesome study song.

And right now, I've got "Digital Love," at play # 60.   You'd think I'd be sick of Daft Punk by now, right?  --No, not so.  Pretty surprising.

My study playlists usually make awesome party mixes.

Things that are good, followed by things that are bad that trump the good things

• Last Friday, successfully completed two (2) senior essays without dying.

• Mass consumption of Red Bull in weeks leading up to said completion has wreaked havoc on my body/system/intestines/all the soft parts. Eating system messed up. Sleeping system messed up. More work left.

• The Winter Issue of The Yale Literary Magazine, after too much time laboring over its limbs, has been released -- it is beautiful.

• It is not online yet; I cannot show it to you. (BUT: it will be soon -- Keep checking www.yale.edu/ylit) **Update! Click for link to the PDF.

• Applications to Yale Writing Courses are due tomorrow. Zelda will apply.

• The English department tends to favor its own douchebag majors over the likes of an outsider such as myself.

• It started snowing today!

• Then it started hailing. My weather widget did a very funny thing in order to convey its dismay:
  

Actually, Celeste pointed out that this widget isn't even correct, because it doesn't include the "feels like" temperature, which accounts for wind chill factor. New Haven weather right now actually looks something more like:


Notice the little 12˚ in a tiny font below the fake temperature? Why do they even do that? There's only one temperature outside right now, and I can tell you for a fact it isn't 25˚.

Luckily, on Monday I'll be headed back to:



Certainly not ideal, but at least a girl can think in 54 degrees.


And finally:
•Somehow, I have been able to write continuously for several hours in the completely creepy Catholic Center, which has nevertheless been a good spot for today because it's so snowy outside, and so warm and festive in here. I'm working on something that I must have written in my sleep but after a dream in the middle of last week (while still in thesis mode) -- I vaguely remember the images it describes, but not really. I think it's actually not that bad.

• Other, arguably more important work has been left untouched. This to be corrected momentarily...
  

o problems

as evidenced by the complaint i just sent to our landlord....:

"digital love"

from Interstella 5555 (a Daft Punk film animated by Leiji Matsumoto to which "Discovery" is the soundtrack).

This clip is from the part wherein "Shep" is dreaming about "Stella," the lovely bassist of a very popular rock band in a galaxy far away (that's why they are blue aliens). He wakes up to learn that Stella and her band (who are later called "The CrescenDolls") have been kidnapped and taken to the planet Earth by an evil record company who wants to make them the greatest rock band in the world in order to win Golden Record Awards, and thus gain control of the Universe....

Can't believe I spent most of my day watching / writing about this.... but it was worth it.

miranda july knows the secrets in my heart

Miranda July's website/blog thing welcomes you with this prompt:

(if you can't read it, below "ENTER SECRET PASSWORD," it says: "(you know the password, just clear your mind and look within. it will probably be the first word that you think of.) (if this doesn't work, try looking at a candle for a few seconds.)")

into which you can enter anything you want...

(I tried to enter INTERSTELLA 5555, which I'm watching now for the thesis, but there wasn't enough space)....

...and then the following screen pops up:

Ha. Fuck, she's good.

(Or I'm tired?)

Plus, the design is pretty.

I could also swear this is a fairly new thing on her site -- before, it took me straight to "YOU OBVIOUSLY KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT." Which made less sense, because I did, but then again, I didn't really. Now, I do.

Day Without Art / New Museum

If I could do anything I liked today, I'd get out of this crazy library and go to New York, get free admission to the New Museum on its opening day, and see what they're doing with the Day Without Art (which began on World AIDS Day, December 1, in 1989) -- whether it's a tribute to the efforts of the 80s and 90s to increase AIDS awareness, or whether it treats as an urgent, contemporary concern...

In the early aughts, I worked on a Day Without Art-related project at the Institute for Cultural Inquiry in L.A. called the "AIDS Chronicles Project." One of my professors, also a huge mentor (my first art history teacher) Lise Patt, was also the Director of Institute, and at the time, I remember thinking of it as this quirky, creative haven on Robertson Blvd., a bizarre place with bookshelves and gadgets and tiny boxes with art in it, and everything that could make an odd creature very, very happy. I had never witnessed anything quite like it prior. (I hope it's still in existence. One of my high school classmates appears to have taken a gig as the assistant to the Director, our old Professor, which gives me cause for optimism...)

So, the AIDS Chronicles Project was this installation wherein every day, the cover of the New York Times was collected, and the entire page was blacked out with paint except for any references to AIDS, AIDS research, etc. Then, the pages of each year were bound together into this volume that had mostly pages painted in all black, except for these white spaces that were able to visually communicate the media's coverage of AIDS. My job was to take these sort of haphazardly-collected pages and cut them neatly, organize them, and skim for AIDS references. Obviously, it wasn't the most creative task, but then again, it was a fairly literal project, visually blocking out everything but the AIDS references so that they appeared as a contrast to the rest of the media, as a separated entity.

Here's an example of a page that had no references to AIDS, which was not infrequent:

On December 1, the Day Withotu Art, they were fond of bringing the year's volume to a public space as an installtion (when I was in high school, it was brought to our art gallery once or twice), and conduct a "Turning of the Pages," slowly going through the volume as onlookers waited for white spaces (coverage of AIDS) to appear.

I never realized this, but in 1995, the project was displayed at the New Museum of Contemporary Art:

....which, today, I'm pleased to say, on its opening day at its beautiful-looking new Bowery location (whose construction I passed by almost every day this summer), is still commemorating the Day Without Art.

"Today, as activist and arts organization mark Day With(out) Art around the globe, let the record show that many in the arts community still choose not to be silent. For the opening of the new building at 235 Bowery, the New Museum pairs the old with the new, presenting significant works in the collection that address the AIDS pandemic such as Act Up’s Silence = Death and Gran Fury’s Wipe Out (New York City Subway Project)." (from their press release)

So, if you're in NY, go visit and let me know.

(And maybe somewhere, the ICI's pages are being turned....?)