GOOD THINGS ABOUT TODAY

+This really overwhelmingly large collection of Ecclectic Soul compilations. Really, who are these people, and where did they find these records? I bought the “Deep City Label” disc today, but really could only make the decision because the album cover has a picture of the Incredible Marching 100 band, and I’ve been psyched about brass bands since Sunday, when I saw the Hot 8 Brass Band, an occasion so good it could almost carry over past the two intervening days and count as one of the good things about today.

+ Eighty degrees in the city. Come on. Except eighty degree days don’t happen without more allergins, and I was all sleepy today thanks to Sudafed and the general feeling that my head was in a box. Or was a box. 

+ Overheard somebody in the Calhoun stairwell whistling “Misty.”

+ Okay, I’ve been holding out a little–the real good news today is that my poetry manuscript is a semifinalist for the Walt Whitman prize. WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? Too bad this Sudafed is keeping me so calm, because otherwise I could go on a tear right now, I’m so happy.

+ As a result, I treated myself to a copy of “The Art of Eating,” which is basically all of the gastronomy essays ever written by M.F.K. Fisher, who happens not only to be a witty food writer but also a master prose stylist. 

+The manicure (see previous post) makes it five times more fun to send texts or manipulate any stylish hand-held electronic device. NAILS YES.

+ Bat City is going to establish an editorial fellowship for recently graduated Michener Fellows starting this year. What this means, basically, is that I have a sterling backup plan in case all the other things I’ve applied for don’t work out.

+ Joshua Beckman reading, friends, poetry. Poetry!

+ Just feeling fancy.

STAND BACK, STAND BACK

 

NAILS YES

 

 

Today: first ever meeting of the Nail Club. Lauren and I talked about shoes, beds, the icy fortress of solitude, and my claws were lathed down to manageable lady hands. I had never before had a manicure, and admittedly didn’t get the big to do about them. Like, nails are fine, whatever. But there’s something about attaining a certain level of grooming that makes you look at your stressful anxiety shit and be all, “Fuck that. You won’t get the best of me. Have you seen my hands? They look REALLY NICE.” 

Which is maybe why the nail salon posters are so fanciful. That sentiment, I think, is the driving force of this nail poster (which I tried tried tried to find a downloadable version of,* just follow the link, trust me, it is going to fix your day). It’s like, NAILS YES. RAINBOWS. GET MONEY. WORK. You can visit the original at Funny Fingers on the first floor of the Dobie Mall. Where manicures cost ten dollars. Also, it’s where the Nail Club meets. 

Also, if you missed the GAY SCIENCE show on Saturday, well, that’s a real shame. But not too much of a shame because it will not be the only time. And I’m going to keep adding feathers to that headdress until my head is so much heavier than the rest of me that I fall over adorably, like a kitten. And the jams, they just won’t stop. Neither will the face paint. Nor the headdress.

* Searching teh internet for nail salon posters is a quick introduction to the pathology of nail madness. Search for “nail salon poster,” you get little of interest. Search for “crazy nail salon poster,” you get nothing. But search for “nail art poster” and you get EVERYTHING, including amazing gems like this one:

Yes, nails, yes.

LOVE IN THIS CLUB

Time to be fancy: Gay Science debut show tomorrow, 2701 Willow Street, starting whenever we happen to get started, it’s a motherfucking party so just come and hang out for a while, why don’t you? It’s also the birthday of a sweet dog named Ivan, who is holding down a top-five place in my friends’ dogs hot chart. You need this. There will be a cover of what is probably your favorite song ever if you have really good taste, three new songs that will eclipse the aforementioned song as your favorite if you continue to have really good taste, and a totally all new rap song that has some stuff about sexy nurses and olfactory excitement and baseball bats. I am going to demo my eye makeup right now. WORK.

 

Also, just for your Friday reading pleasure, a gchat conversation between myself and Adam Atkinson, AKA Best Boy Ever:

 

Adam: hey i am invisible

but not TO YOU

me: HELLO!

Adam: HELLO I AM A GHOST OF GMAIL

me: SHHH I THINK THERE IS A GHOST IN HERE

Adam: OH OKAY

me: SHHH

Adam: DAMN

SORRY

 me:  I JUST HEARD SOMETHING

DID YOU JUST HEAR SOMETHING?

 

Adam:  YEAH

 me:  AHHH THERE IT WAS AGAIN