From Adam Gopnik's story in the latest New Yorker about recipes in works of fiction:

McEwan is obviously painting a picture of l’homme bourgeois as he is today, his hands filled with fish, his mind with intimations of terror.

I was overcome with existential dread last time I was wrestling with a lovely fillet of Tilapia.

fine spring rain blankets ( Read more... )

Got me out of town for the remainder of the extended cold snap we endured for the last six weeks or so. Today was so sunny and warm, I could almost walk around without my hat and mits on, events scarcely conceivable mere days ago. Finalizing my application to McGill (due Thursday), and then nothing (but for the usual suspects) can distract me ( Read more... )

Though the subject of crimes committed during the Iraq war is by now old hat (in some quarters the hat is in tatters and bordering on spectral), I, for one, never tire of hearing Henrik Hertzberg expound upon it.

My dogg Hank waxin' hella wise 'bout the midterms. The dude has no mercy.

Dare to reach Beyond, into the unknowable, and come away rewarded with the wisdom of the ages:

http://chappie.stanford.edu/archives/1997-1998/fear/from_the_desk_of_johnny_cash/

Why? Why steal my bike? It's in pretty rough shape: the rear shifters needed adjusting, both front and back breaks could use new shoes, as well as adjustments, and might need replacing as they can't maintain their distance from the rim of the wheel after a few uses, and must be manually adjusted (read: I move them with my hand, usually while ( Read more... )

feelin' low :/

The apartment search is over. A lovely 5 1/2 is the result. Huzzah! Now time to bury the dead and begin the paperwork.

I'm getting damned sick of this apartment hunting business. Four weeks is long enough. I hope we get the one we applied for this weekend.