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We are in that pause before the Big Snow.
The birds have all gone in. The world is silent. And dark.
I have food. And dope. And endless amusements. And work should the fancy take me to turn useful.
Shortly, I will venture forth into the caesura for Cheerios and scented candles.
Don’t ask me why I’ve been craving Cheerios because I don’t know.
The scented candles are because I share the Patrizia-torium with a cat.
###
Yesterday, I did errands, read up on changes in the tax code—you can’t get credit for charitable contributions anymore unless you itemize—and reread Chapter 9: Forty-Minute Lunch of A Visit From the Goon Squad three times.
Chapter 9: Forty-Minute Lunch of A Visit From the Goon Squad is a description of a celebrity interview gone cosmically askew.
If you’ve ever done a celebrity interview yourself—I have—it is deeply hilarious.
Back in my People Mag days, I was once tasked with writing a 350-word Drew Barrymore profile based on the 10 minutes I spent with Drew Barrymore in a room that looked like an expanded photobooth during a Wedding Singer junket.
I started that profile: When Drew Barrymore applies lip gloss, the world around her grinds to a halt.
I had a half-hour argument with my editor over that “grinds.”
Does “grinds” really capture the nuance of Drew Barrymore’s appeal? she asked.
I think she meant “essence” not “nuance” there, but I didn’t tell her that.
This was the same editor who once told me that if I could figure out a way to work the word “astride,” "akimbo," or "askew" into every piece I wrote, my readership would double.
The birds have all gone in. The world is silent. And dark.
I have food. And dope. And endless amusements. And work should the fancy take me to turn useful.
Shortly, I will venture forth into the caesura for Cheerios and scented candles.
Don’t ask me why I’ve been craving Cheerios because I don’t know.
The scented candles are because I share the Patrizia-torium with a cat.
###
Yesterday, I did errands, read up on changes in the tax code—you can’t get credit for charitable contributions anymore unless you itemize—and reread Chapter 9: Forty-Minute Lunch of A Visit From the Goon Squad three times.
Chapter 9: Forty-Minute Lunch of A Visit From the Goon Squad is a description of a celebrity interview gone cosmically askew.
If you’ve ever done a celebrity interview yourself—I have—it is deeply hilarious.
Back in my People Mag days, I was once tasked with writing a 350-word Drew Barrymore profile based on the 10 minutes I spent with Drew Barrymore in a room that looked like an expanded photobooth during a Wedding Singer junket.
I started that profile: When Drew Barrymore applies lip gloss, the world around her grinds to a halt.
I had a half-hour argument with my editor over that “grinds.”
Does “grinds” really capture the nuance of Drew Barrymore’s appeal? she asked.
I think she meant “essence” not “nuance” there, but I didn’t tell her that.
This was the same editor who once told me that if I could figure out a way to work the word “astride,” "akimbo," or "askew" into every piece I wrote, my readership would double.
