4 May 2006
1. Song: “America” by Simon and Garfunkel.
2. TV Show: Northern Exposure. I may have mentioned before my crush on Fleischman, oh, Fleischman, but it is really the sense of a small, colorful community that I really love about this show. That, and certain episodes tie in with Gabriel Garcia-Marquez stories really, really well. Second place favorite tv show of all time goes to Roseanne. Gross! I know!
3. Donut flavor: Unglazed with chocolate frosting. I had to point out the “unglazed” part because Krispy Kreme has ruined everything for me by putting chocolate frosting on top of an already-glazed donut, which is gross.
4. Poem: “Liar” by Charlie Smith. “Listen, / I came downstairs this morning /
and somebody had filled the house with flowers.”
5. Unsubstantiated rumor that is so totally made up: That this guy I know was such a Smiths fan he kept a picture of Morrissey in his underwear. I LOVE THIS RUMOR.
6. Day of the week: What a boring category! My favorite day of the week is Friday because of all the potential the weekend holds. I also don’t mind Wednesday, since it’s a good for signalling how long you have to do all the stuff you told yourself you’d do that week. Sundays are cursed with the taint of long-ago homework and impending doom, although for a good run there getting to watch Six Feet Under helped things. Now, Sunday, you’re dead to me.
7. Place to Vomit: Mix’s brand-new car. Apparently I have very good aim and she was only required to clean up a little spittle Sunday morning. I am lying, though, when I say it was my favorite place to vomit. I prefer vomiting wherever Mrs. Floon is, for she has cleaned up a whole heck of a lot of my vomit and has done so cheerily, once even expressing gratitude that she was able to test the various functionality of the Lee Press-On nails she was wearing as she fished vomit pieces out of someone’s sink while I laid on the floor sucking on a wet washrag and crying. These Lee Press-On nails are great! I’m not even physically touching your vomit! etc.
8. Movie: I can’t decide on one, so here are the top three — my sole criterion is “movies I could watch over and over again forever without getting bored even if these were the only movies I could ever watch again, amen.” Anyway: The Philadelphia Story, Roman Holiday, and Moonstruck. And Chinatown. And Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The end. I forgot Annie Hall and The Royal Tenenbaums.
9. Writing instrument: I enjoy a felt-tip pen of any width (even big fat ones, although super fine are great, too) because I like the squeak-squeak they make when you write (it’s actually more of a wonk-wonk), and I like a Papermate Sharpwriter pencil.
10. Beatles album: Abbey Road. Hands down, no questions asked, goodnight. I love that side 2 is just one big song, and runs the gamut from pretty to weird to sad to awesome back to pretty again. Can you tell I was one of those people who put up Beatles posters in her dorm room? At least I didn’t wear the little John Lennon glasses.
11. Lunch: A perfect lunch should be filling but not overfilling, which leads to food narcolepsy. My perfect lunch consists of a chicken salad sandwich — the chicken salad is made without pickles or relish — on a croissant with non-iceburg lettuce, a tomato, and an entire sliced avocado. Chips on the side, please. And sweet tea.
12. Pastry: Blueberry brioche from Bottletree Bakery in Oxford, Mississippi. The first time I ate one I was so entranced that I wandered about, repeating the magical word “brioche,” and decided that it would be a beautiful name for a child.
13. Smiths album: Meat is Murder, and this is why: it deals with adolescent themes, is jangly, it has disparate and interesting plot lines in the various songs and yet most of them are fairly upbeat musically, has many songs about unrequited love (my favorite subject ever), and has “Rusholme Ruffians” on it, which contains this, one of the most perfect lines ever written: “Scratch my name on your arm with a fountain pen / This means you really love me.”
14. Non-alcoholic beverage: This is a no-brainer, since I often sit and stare lovingly at the empty Coke cans littering my office, write poems about the empty Coke cans, and read said poems about the empty Coke cans at open mic nights. So yes: I love Coke. Pepsi will do, but Coke is it, Coke is it! The most refreshing way / to make the most of every day!
15. Alcoholic beverage: I really love Mrs. Floon’s bourbon margaritas, but I am not allowed to drink them anymore, as I have developed another alcohol allergy: anything brown ain’t staying down. (I’m already allergic to wine.) My favorite alcoholic beverages are the creamy margaritas at Cinqo de Mayo, pints of Bass Ale, and beers in large cans if I’ve already been drinking a lot and do not notice I am drinking out of large cans.
16. Magazine: The New Yorker, although I also enjoy Real Simple, Martha Stewart Living, and Smithsonian. And Us Weekly. And Marie Claire, sometimes. Confession: I used to subscribe to Stickers magazine. It was about stickers. A WHOLE MAGAZINE DEVOTED TO STICKERS.
17. Concert: Duh, Morrissey in 1991! I had front row tickets! Yes, I’m bragging! Heidi was the first person to touch Morrissey at this concert; right after the hallowed touching, girls ran up to Heidi crying saying, you are so lucky. I am not making this up. Later, we all got our fair share of Morrissey touching action (I stuck my hand up his pants leg). Confession: when he first came on stage, Heidi and I both cried. If you watch the Morrissey: Live in Dallas video, you will see Heidi’s whole head, but only my thumb. Concert runners-up: Wilco in St. Louis in 2001 (a perfect, grown-up, sit-down concert, in which they played ALL of my favorite songs); Billy Joel in 1984 (my first concert!); Guided by Voices in Tuscaloosa in 2002 (if only because Vendela made out a member of the band afterwards as the rest of us pointed and laughed).
18. Blog: The first blog I ever read with any regularity was Catoptric, where I lurked for awhile, then commented as “Sally” once, and then was outed by gclark (I didn’t know about IPs and WhoIs), and then a few months later I joined Catoptric, and it was great. I loved being part of a communal blog — there wasn’t any pressure to write with any regularity because someone else usually posted something, but there was also the pressure of writing something that represented everyone, which probably made us all write better than we do on our own. And then Catoptric broke up, and Pretty Fakes was born, and then Catoptric broke up again, and theohreally was born, and Glam Menagerie, and now I think we are all solidly in our own grooves, although sometimes I pine for the olden days. Anyway: besides the olden days of Catoptric, the blogs I read every day (with feverish refreshing) are: Liz is Working, City Crab, Pretty Fakes, and Callalillie. I read lots of others — more than that are on my link list — every day as well. The refreshing just isn’t as feverish, that’s all.
19. Class: My favorite class of all time was Art Appreciation for Non-Art Majors. I went around telling people I was going to major in Art Appreciation for Non-Art Majors I loved it so much. Slides, glorious slides, tidbits about artists and technique, etc. Second favorite class: Advanced Reading in high school. An elective for honors kids, all we did was read and do crossword puzzles and worksheets about etymology and old-school book reports and talk about themes and symbols and ohmygod I’m salivating just thinking of it.
20. Curse word: Asshole. First runner up: douchebag. Second runner up: fucking, but only as an adjective. The use of “fucking” as a verb is strictly prohibited.
21. Smiths song: The Hatful of Hollow version of “Still Ill.” And “Rusholme Ruffians.”
22. Actor: I am fond of Cary Grant, especially as C.K. Dexter Haven in The Philadelphia Story, Gregory Peck, especially as Joe Bradley in Roman Holiday, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a movie with Kate Winslet in which I didn’t drive home afterward thinking, I totally wish I were Kate Winslet.
23. Book: I generally go with Love in the Time of Cholera when I am asked this question (which is often, due to my profession), but I am also very fond of Song of Solomon, The House of Mirth, and The Heaven of Mercury. More about these books in next month’s list, which is devoted to my favorite books. Oh, how I love a medium that is devoted exclusively to me.
24. Fruit and vegetable: As far a traditional fruits go, my favorite is the blueberry, I guess, although I eat tons of bananas. Non-traditional fruit: the lovely, buttery, velvety avocado. Vegetable: the white potato, asparagus, and cabbage.
25. Restaurant: I love Amerigo here in Jackson; I love Taco Bueno in Texas; I love a greasy pit called Pat’s in St. Louis; I love 15th Street Diner in Tuscaloosa; I love Anthony’s in West Point.
26. Superstition: I am very fond of superstitions, as a rule, and have several personal, made-up superstitions that have come from various books and movies (damn you, soft brain, for being so easily influenced!). I have access to a couple of superstition reference books, and there is no way I can choose a favorite — instead, here is my favorite today: if your child is a persistent bed-wetter, take him/her to a cemetery and have him/her pee on the grave of a child of the opposite sex. Ok, ok, this one is rad, too: to cure the flu, boil an egg in the pee of the sick before it gets cold; prick holes all over the egg shell; bury in an anthill. O GOD WHY WAS I BORN IN THIS CENTURY.
27. Celebrity: I’ll say it: I love Gwen Stefani.
28. Form of punctuation: Semicolon, hands down! It is exquisite; the very sight of it makes my heart leap.
29. Store: Duh, T.J. Maxx. I wish I could say that my favorite store was Anthropologie, but I have purchased so few things there — and those were on the super-clearance rack — that it would seem false. Although I have purchased several Anthropologie items at T.J. Maxx. This category is stupid.
30. Dream: I should’ve consulted my dream journal before writing this, but the one that comes to mind is one in which Madonna, David Schwimmer, and a squirrel named “Nirwa” were involved.
31. Daydream: That I am offered a fabulous, high-paying, up-until-now never-heard-of job wherein I am paid to watch television, eat cream cheese-based pastries, doodle on clean pads of paper with brand-new felt-tip pens, and write hilarious, perfect pieces that require zero editing. The only realistic part of this job is that it is in New York.