So, here we are: Goodbye day. I've had a great time, and I hope you have, too. Know who isn't having a great time? Abby, in this photo of her getting her first bath. I love her.
Blogging is hard. I've written all of this week's posts in one document, and the majority of this now-23-page document resides about ten line spaces below, a rogue's gallery of false starts and edited-out bits. That's all the stuff that didn't make it, and there is a lot of it. Here's a sampling:
- What I love about vacations is getting off a plane somewhere and listening to everyone speaking a different language. It's hilarious, and yet they, the other-language-speakers, don't know it.
- Basically, what I'm trying to say here is I've got fuck-all for material right now. This is why blogging is difficult. I mean, it's easy if you're one of those jerkoffs who thinks it's worthwhile to give the world access to your woes about the batch of your World Famous Nuttilicious Fudgtastic Nilly Willy Chilly Bo-Billy™ brownies you just baked that did not turn out just right or how great it is to be 14 days sober!!! or, I don't know, your belligerent account of a date gone wrong with some fucktard who pinched you on match.com and who is not, in fact, In Finance, but instead a greasy summer intern at Citi.
- I spent some time trying to figure out what to piss and moan about today. (Really ? thought went into this.) Contenders included those heinous reader reviews that make you stupider for having read them and are especially toxic now that the permanent record is electronic and painfully accessible to all; the scourge of babies that clog my elevator with their straight-outta-the-NSA-secret-weapons-lab strollers; the unfairly high price of Hudson bourbon; being shelved in the mystery section; and, oh, I don't know, maybe the cultural rape of Tibet or a similarly timely safe bet. And then I thought: Why not not be a whiny jagoff?
- I'm in a bit of a bad mood, so I thought I'd lob dull darts at a large, soft target: the internet. Here's the problem with the internet: blah blah blah.
- Why is it that the rudimentarily sketched penis is sometimes really, really funny? It works on some subway platform advertisements, but not most. It always looks about the same and is generally deployed in the service of ejaculating or pissing on someone's face. Occasionally it will exclaim in hastily scribbled capitals "Suck me!” or "Eat my jism!” Yawn. And yet, sometimes ? hilarious.
See? It's like Andy Rooney out-takes, taken out for good reason.
So! I want to thank Powell's for putting up with me, Kyra for gently pointing out the things that I really should not say, and Lisa_Emily for depositing the sole comment.
I'll leave you with this, my end of summer reccos:
Obviously.
A professional acquaintance's novel.
A friend-of-a-friend's memoir.
Somebody I went to grad school with wrote this.
No relation.