Archive | November, 2012

My apologies for the light number of posts this week. I was working on a few things, but none of them came to fruition. Like this following excerpt, which never became a post. I’ve included it because I feel it properly explains why I was absent from the blog (I was recovering from a food bender):

Geraldine emerges from underneath her aunt’s dining room table. She is disheveled and confused. In lieu of pants, she wears a tablecloth, folded into something akin to a diaper. Her trousers were discarded long ago, when she found she could no longer button them. An ill-conceived fourth helping of pie was the cause.

Remnants of said pie remain on her face. And also in her hair.

She roams around the house, dazed, (though acutely aware that her tablecloth-diaper is surprisingly comfortable).

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THERE IS A GREMLIN ON THE WING. No, I kid. It’s just a Celica.

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Dear Alaska Airlines,

Hi! It’s me, Geraldine. You might remember me from such notable trips as AA Flight #476, Seattle to L.A. (the one that was so bumpy, NO SNACKS WERE HANDED OUT, which turned out to be not that big a deal because I spent the evening throwing up, anyway) or last month’s AA Flight #12, Seattle to Boston, during which I could not stop farting (a.k.a., Stinks on a Plane) and also, I lost my camera.

Let me know if that thing turns up, okay? There are some photos on there that I want. In particular, several snapshots of a collage I made of Elvis Presley being eaten by a robotic T-Rex wearing a bow-tie. I used my copy of Alaska Airlines Magazine to create the masterpiece. After all, you said it was mine to keep (also, your editorial staff keeps ignoring my article pitches on how to conceal your farts on cross-country flights. Granted, I am clearly unqualified to speak on that topic.)

I have utterly lost my train of thought.

No, wait, I got it!

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My dear, confusing mother.

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I’ve just returned from California. I spent several days spent in the company of my family, which is always a fascinating experience. Nothing makes me question reality more.

I’ve tried explaining to my friends that my relations see things differently than the rest of the world, but my point is often lost.

“All families are insane,” they say, nodding sympathetically. And then they’ll tell me about some aunt of theirs with an excessive collection of hat pins and no hats, and laugh at how ridiculous the whole thing is.

Hat pins! How delightfully zany!

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I was trying to write an intro for this week’s roundup, and felt uninspired, so I just came up with some placeholder text instead.

“Blah blah blah turkey turkey turkey football family pie.”

And looking back on it, I realize it pretty much sums up everything I wanted to say. To those of you in the U.S., have a safe and wonderful Thanksgiving holiday. I’ll see you all on Monday.

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Someone took thirteen different lists of “Top 100 Books”, and condensed them into one. (Lots of overlaps, but it still leaves you with 623 awesome reads. Enjoy.)

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Loving the street art of Alice Pasquini.  My favorite is the one of a girl peeing on the sidewalk, next to some graffitti that reads, “non fare pipi.” (Which is Italian for “Don’t pee.” But you could probably have guessed that.)

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Sometimes, I suck.

I mean, big time. Several of you are reading those lines and thinking, “Oh, yes, I know. I was just about to leave a comment on your blog expressing that EXACT same sentiment.”

Others of you are thinking, “Well, sure, you suck, but who among us does not?” And for your gracious understanding, I thank you.

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Why does no one ever mistakenly deliver cupcakes to my house?

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I get email. Lots of it. Sometimes, it’s not even meant for me. (A phenomenon that I can’t quite fathom. When people don’t have someone’s email address, do they just guess, and follow it with “@gmail.com”? Do they deduce phone numbers by punching a random series of numbers? Instead of asking where their friends live, do they drive around neighborhoods and knock on door after door? Because otherwise I DON’T UNDERSTAND.)

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I am ridiculously proud of my friends this week. So many of them are changing the world in wonderful ways (be warned. I’m about to use the CAPS LOCK. A LOT.) Ahem.

My friend Erica is officially a published author, for the second (or is it third?) time. AND HER BOOK IS ALREADY SOLD OUT ON AMAZON.

My pal Will spent last night sleeping on the streets of Philadelphia to raise awareness about homeless teens in his town. He raised $10,000 for the cause. Oh, and yesterday he was also honored as Philly’s Small Business Person of the Year. (Note to self: DO MORE WITH YOUR LIFE.)

And today, the Best (wo)Man from our wedding is graduating from culinary school. A passion that she decided to pursue AFTER SHE GRADUATED LAW SCHOOL (and worked for the Attorney General of Washington state for a few years). #badass

They’re awesome. And I feel absurdly lucky to know them all.

With that, here are this week’s links. Enjoy.

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For seven decades the price of a bottle of Coca-Cola remained the same: a nickel. Here’s why.

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My husband sent me a link to The Hater’s Guide to the Williams and Sonoma Catalog, saying, “I laughed so hard I cried.” So did I.

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The Peace walls of Belfast, viewed from a Catholic neighborhood.

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Usually, my WTF Wednesdays are not serious. They have to do with the many odd things I’ve encountered while traveling: inscrutable showers, another passenger’s toes in my personal space, more inscrutable showers … you know, the usual things that make my forehead wrinkle in confusion, then laugh.

This was not the case with the Peace Wall in Belfast. I saw no humor in it. I just stood, slack-jawed, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

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