June Books

My goodness, it’s already time for June Book Roundup.

The Moviegoer, by Walker Percy
A great book that seems to go in circles but still end up somewhere. For anyone who’s ever wondered the big “what if”s of life. [8/10]

Consider Lily, Anne Dayton & May Vanderbilt
By the authors of Emily Ever After. This book is actually much more sophisticated and funny than the first. If you like chick lit, chances are you’ll like this “good girl lit” book. I really enjoyed it. It’s Christian without being corny, preachy, or overbearing, and they actually managed to integrate blogging, of all things, in the most natural way I’ve ever seen.[9/10]

Reading now . . . The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Klay by Michael Chabon. For pre-marital counseling, we’re working through Reforming Marriage by Doug Wilson and The Marriage Builder by Larry Crabb.

I think I’ll be lucky if I finish all of those, but if I do, I want to re-read A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.

ugh.

No offense to anyone whose job this currently is (dear me, I hope you’re not reading my blog), but I just saw the most depressing job idea ever.

Web producer for TV Guide.

Colorful little me

I am a girl, and as such, I am coveting two adorable makeup items.


Lip glaze in six delicious colors. And they’re named after coffee!


This stuff is amazing, as it’s got crayon-style eyeliner, eye shadow, and a smudging brush all in one neat little package that even completely-makeup-illiterate I can manage. I think I want it in lapis, lilac, and ivy.

Think I can get it and write it off as a “wedding expense”? ::wink wink:: Just kidding. Sort of.

here’s an idea

Here’s an idea
Let’s grab this life and wring its neck with joy
So that when it comes time to die
When we find we have no breath left
It is because we willingly strangled ourselves
With love
Fell down dead
And mostly happy

- Linford Detweiler

Cool Blogs for $200, Alex

Remember Ken Jennings? The Guy Who Essentially Beat Jeopardy in 2004? He has a blog, and it is quite good. He is a witty and interesting writer. Books, Ken! Books!

Go read it

An exceptional interview with Dick Staub about Christians and art and media and consumerist marketing of all of the above.

Woohoo!

SPIDEY!

(Worth the wait time.)

One year down

As of today, I’ve been at Bank of America for a year. Woohoo.

NYC, #1 Most Courteous City

No, it’s not photoshopped. Here’s the article from Reader’s Digest. This is what I was trying to say in my recent article at Relevant.

(via Angela)

I thank everyone, all the time - the guy who rips the tickets at the movie theater, every waiter that refills my glass every time he refills it, the guy who comes to pick up my trash every day at work, everyone who performs a service for me, holds the door open for me, whatever, and I generally tip 20% unless the service was bad. I wasn’t aware that not everyone does this until I moved out of Albany and started noticing that I’m sometimes the only one. At work I end all my emails with “Thank You”, even when the person is way out of line. My parents trained me to say please and thank you and always be polite, and so it’s just a habit, not anything particularly awesome about me. :)

How do you view common courtesy?

Monday Sundry

We saw Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead at the New Jersey Shakespeare Festival on Friday night. Existential goodness. Very long, but worth it.

Then we saw Brick, which was brilliant. It’s like a 40’s film noir story & dialogue (detective tries to solve mystery of missing woman, whom he loved, and all hell breaks loose, including . . . well, I won’t ruin it for you), but it’s set in a modern-day California high school. But the dialogue is brilliant.

Yesterday after church and brunch we went shopping for some things at Crate & Barrel - a few big glasses (28 oz - was tired of refilling tiny glasses all the time), four wine glasses, a pepper grinder (I think we’ll end up getting the salt one too), and tealight holder. Good prices! Good stuff!

And then Tom & I went to Think Coffee and drank coffee and ate pecan pie and homemade ice cream and played Scrabble, which I astoundingly won, mostly due to my early procurement of a Q and later procurement of not one but two U’s. “QUINCE” won the day. (Tom: “What’s that?” Me: “I dunno . . . some kind of fruit?”)

Moleskine love: ESV Bible and the 18 month planner.

Hurrah!

Happy 1st anniversary to New York City and me. Here’s to many more.

Podcast.

I have got to stop listing to the Relevant podcast at work. I’m generally left in silent, convulsive laughter. And that’s just weird, at work.

Design, mostly.

I’ve been very busy lately, but I have been greatly enjoying my hop back into web programming & design. I decided that on this iteration (haha, haha) I would ditch tables altogether and make the jump to CSS positioning, which is what I should have been doing all along.

A few sites that I’ve found recently that I love:
» Squidfingers - check out the great pixel patterns.
» Kaliber 10000 - also includes a lot of great pixel patterns.
» A List Apart - everyone knows this site, but it’s worth repeating.
» Design Method - just because it carries the tagline on the right, “Made with Flash . . . and a Brain”.

And worth noting:
Google plans to roll out some sort of Gmail for every domain thing. If they succeed with this, I think it’s going to kick the whole webhosting world way up. I put my name on the waiting list.

Still alive

I am still alive and kicking, but I’m a little buried in work and weddings.

The good news is, there will be a wedding, it will include food and a roof over our heads, and everything else will fall into place in the near future.

We went to the Soho House on Sunday after brunch for dessert with Steve & Louisa, who got us in, as well as a few others. One of the more surreal experiences I’ve had since I moved to NYC.

The Devil Wears Prada

I was just looking at the photos from The Devil Wears Prada. Ok, even if they slaughtered the book (and it looks like they did) . . . I think I’m going to have to go see it . . .

. . . for the clothes. ::blush::

Tom

I’d like to take a moment to sing the praises of my fiance. Well, more accurately, his stuff.

(Just kidding. Sorta.)

But! As I remarked to him the other day, I would marry him for his book collection alone. Which may be an exaggeration . . . but it’s not too far off. Tom moved his book & DVD collection to my apartment when I moved in, because he’s moving home for the summer film shoot this weekend.

And oh, my goodness.

All the books I’ve ever wanted to read and didn’t want to buy. Dozens of books I should read. Classics, amazing literature, books on film, books on theology, books on books. I fancy myself a bookophile, but he’s got it honed to a whole different level.

And films? He’s got two Alfred Hitchcock boxed sets. Need I say more?

Not to mention that he’s got the best taste in music and the CD collection to boot. Angela (appearing at a new and cooler URL now) will concur on this point.

And he’s really cute! But I guess that isn’t regarding his stuff. Still, when you’ve got such an intelligent, well-read boy, who has a meticulously procured collection of amazing books and films full of amazing thoughts that he wants to share with you, it’s just an added bonus.

In case you think me horribly materialistic, I’ll reassure you that it’s what lies behind this impressive collection of culture that is important. He cares. And learns.

I love him. :)

OTR & HEM (Karin says, jumble it up, it makes MOTHER)

Last night was the second-to-last Over the Rhine & Hem concert for their spring tour. And it was grand. I haven’t got the energy to write a good piece, but here’s the basics:

Over the Rhine was on first. I beg of you, if you haven’t heard them, please look them up. You will not be disappointed.

They played mostly songs from Ohio (which I haven’t heard yet) and Drunkard’s Prayer (brilliant album) and some new material. They opened with a new song, then played I Want You to Be My Love, followed by Born, after which I was just grinning uncontrollably. The rest followed in wonderful fashion. I can’t listen to people play the piano anymore without an insane urge to go find a piano and play it. Maybe I will.

Hem is a new band for me, but I’ve been hearing a lot of buzz about them. They’re NYC-based, mostly Brooklyn, and there’s eight of them - including piano, vocals, glockenspiel, violin, multiple guitar/mandolin-type instruments, upright string bass, and lap steel. If you like Nickel Creek’s gentler music, I think you’d like them. They played a triple encore, the center of which was a cover of Jackson (yeah, THAT Jackson, the Johnny Cash/June Carter one, but like you’ve never heard it before). Check them out.

Poetry

And in honor of the concert tonight, I give you a small sample of Linford Detweiler’s poetry.

Everybody Is Sick Of Love

Except for the girl dancing slowly
Folded in the arms
Of her gentle boy
Her eyes closed in precious disbelief.

So I am watching the joy on her face,
You have never seen such pure peace and delight,
Because if you had,
Your eyes would have been closed too.

(Or maybe you have.)

But thanks to her,
This broken world was briefly mended
For one fleet night before it ended.

And:

Second Hand Smoke
(Kaldi’s Coffehouse)

Hang up your pictures little girl.
These people must be smoking a lot of pot
And look how happy they are,
Their faces in the morning.

And they’re not at work (praise)
Numbed out of their minds
With America’s real addiction:
More and more money.

These people are waking up slowly
With their cigarettes and coffees
And each others unwashed hair,
Smiling and talking.

They have those special eyelids:
The kind that don’t open all the way.
They can laugh outloud already
And it’s not even noon.

There is a cop who has joined
The conversation at the bar,
Bullet-proof vest and badge.
He cups a hand around the tip of his unlit cigarette.

I’m surprised that he’s able (strike a match)
To comfortably join in the conversation.
Nobody seems to mind
His crewcut.

The policeman leaves his spoon in his cup
When he drinks,
Tips the ceramic toward his face,
Looks like he could lose an eye.

Everybody and I mean everybody is smoking.
A boy dislodges a few crumpled bills
From a front pocket,
Orders another espresso,

Turns toward a girl
With traces of blue in her blonde hair
And says, You look different today.
How is that?

Excuse me, Can I bum a cigarette?
He tucks the cigarette he’s offered
above his right ear like a carpenter’s pencil
and lights up one of his own.

(Now that’s planning ahead.)

Well, these are my people somehow.
And if that makes me a slacker,
A bohemian, an artist–
Whatever the label,

At least I didn’t have to shave
This morning.
And because I’m not punching your clock
With my pummelled life,

I can wonder, tongue in cheek,
(By living a life that I actually sort of like),
Will I add, (so to speak),
Five days to each week?

Yay!

Over the Rhine tonight!

Happy Tuesday, kiddo

Ok, my new official goal in life (this changes daily) is to someday have a job that lands me in Soho. It’s so much more intriguing and pretty than bland old midtown. This goes hand-in-hand with my great desire to someday have a job where I can dress creatively, and wear jeans on Friday. I have modest hopes and dreams.

Went to girls’ group again today. ‘Twas crowded and good. I order a big hazelnut iced coffee (black, of course) and an untoasted bagel with butter for a modest fee and smush around the table with twelve other girls, college-grad aged and up, and we chatter and talk about Romans and things like that. Bizzarely, I was able to drag myself out of bed at 5:30 am and would have been there by 7am but I inadvertantly got on the N train, which does not stop at Prince Street at 7am but continues on to Union Square and I had to take a cab back down. Whoops.

Currently reading Paste’s 100 Songwriters Issue and greatly enjoying it. I’m inspired to start backtracking and listening to all these musicians. I need a much broader base of knowledge before I can write about music well. I have a very deep knowledge of classical music and next to nothing when it comes to music from 1950 to about 2001. I barely recognize the Beatles when they hit me over the head (figuratively, though how cool would that be?). Must improve.

I did spend the subway commute listening to Damien Rice’s O. Tom downloaded Unplayed Piano (Rice & Lisa Hannigan), which I annoying forgot to transport to my iPod but listened to yesterday and loved loved loved. So I had to listen to O again, and it is tres fantastic.

After dinner last night, Tom worked on cleaning up his stuff that is at my apartment (i.e., DVDs, boxes of tidbits, office supplies) and I worked on getting framework laid down for a couple of big web projects that I’m tackling this summer. I am so glad to be back in the saddle, so to speak, and picking up web design again. I missed it.

But we had a total brainstorm about how we can rearrange the apartment once we have real furniture. We’re still trying to work out the details, but I think he’s brilliant. (He is.)

Someday, somehow, someone will return my calls about wedding reception sites, and we’ll have a wedding date. Labor Day weekend does seem to be the best candidate at the moment. Till then, stay tuned.

T-shirts

My favorite T-shirts on Threadless right now.
- Impossible Love
- Cheese (LOVE this one)
- Cookie Loves Milk
- Spanish
- So Far

And All That Jazz

My downstairs neighbor is a jazz musician (flute & sax), and he’s been practicing most of the day. Incredible. I love this place.

it’s like Christmas!

YAY INTERNET FOUR DAYS EARLY YAY

Relevantmore

My other article for this week at Relevant, which I enjoyed writing. :)

Jack’s Valentine

Speaking of, if you haven’t heard the song Jack’s Valentine, by Over the Rhine, you desperately need to.

help me. spread my table.
i’ve been tryin’ but i’m just not able.
there’s so much left inside,
so very much I’ve been tryin’ to hide.
life gets pretty heavy and i wish it was light,
but after all i love the night.
and there’s that word again.
i still hear it every now and again.

i breathe you ’cause you help me forget
everything I don’t know about love yet.
i need you ’cause you help me forget,
yeah, you help me forget.
i drink you ’cause you help me to see
it’s mostly myself that’s killin’ me.
i think I have to, to help me forget
everything I don’t know about love yet.

someone said these were the best days,
best days of our life.
i suppose there could be worse ways,
worse ways to learn to cry.
and if these should be the last days,
the last days for you and I,
i suppose this is the best way,
best way to say goodbye.

i breathe you ’cause you help me forget
everything I don’t know about love yet.
i need you ’cause you help me forget,
yeah, you help me forget.
i drink you ’cause you help me to see
it’s mostly myself that’s killin’ me.
i think I have to, to help me forget
everything I don’t know about love yet.

it snows in here. it snows forever,
but there’s no christmas underneath this weather.
when it blows here and gets real cold,
i wanna trip myself and fall upon your fabulous sword
and move here by the stained-glass window.
forget about the inside ghetto.
down here on the hardwood floor,
the lines on the ceiling start to swim once more
like a cheap Renoir, a fake Van Gogh,
a pop Monet, a blue Degas.

i breathe you. i need you. ah.

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