tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36926122011-04-21T19:47:57.325-04:00lcnoreply@blogger.comBlogger101100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692612.post-1130816216054034472005-10-31T21:33:00.000-05:002005-10-31T22:36:56.090-05:00

A book within a book: in John Irving's A Widow for One Year, the main character's father writes a children's book called A Sound Like Someone Trying Not to Make a Sound. It's how the main character, a little girl at the time, describes a spooky sound she heard one day. Although the shivery effect is not lost on me, it's how I would now describe the agony of trying to hide crying.I've always been

lcnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692612.post-1121656944207758892005-07-17T22:39:00.000-04:002005-07-17T23:22:24.213-04:00

Ever since I was a little girl, when someone in my family made me feel angry and resentful, I would make a mental note: they're not invited to my wedding. This, to me, seemed to be the ultimate punishment, and one that I was fully entitled to exact, being my day. My day of joy and redemption. I vindictively imagined their outrage when all the other family members first received news, and the

lcnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692612.post-1120190122869605232005-06-30T23:42:00.000-04:002005-06-30T23:57:03.143-04:00

It was lunchtime, and she was hungry. They had gone down to the deli across the street, where she ordered what she had been thinking about for the past four hours. And, just as she was about to bite into her sandwich, he nonchalantly told her, "I'm gay, you know."She wishes he hadn't said that right then. Now she would have to pay him more attention than her sandwich. "Oh, really?" was what she

lcnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692612.post-1119316476604587592005-06-20T20:31:00.000-04:002005-06-20T21:17:36.283-04:00

The first real, likeable quality that I found in Jones was his storytelling. It was his story about his friends playing a driving game involving racing through the descending tollbooth arm that got me, punctuated with his characteristic finger-jabbing flourishes following his tabletop finger-tapping. More than the distracting gestures, which I would later mimic for our friends, Jones's genuine

lcnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692612.post-1118979858590659802005-06-16T23:19:00.000-04:002005-06-17T00:36:52.363-04:00

I missed it: Tiffany reported a Paul Banks sighting on Sunday. I demanded to know everything about him that one could learn only after seeing him in person. No, he is not short, but around six feet tall. He has lost the unfortunate weight he gained that I unfortunately noted when Interpol was on tour. His face is not that moley, and up close, he is even cuter. Paul was with Carlos D., who

lcnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692612.post-1118278495098089852005-06-08T20:44:00.000-04:002005-06-08T20:54:55.103-04:00

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, thoughtfully borrowed from the public library in anticipation of a post-op day spent in agony, was disappointingly boring. Charlie Kaufman, huh? Kate Winslet was good. Jim Carrey gave another Truman Show-esque performance of comic despair. The movie did remind me of The Truman Show in other aspects (a sham world of sham relationships), along with Vanilla

lcnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692612.post-1118196217985230052005-06-07T21:43:00.000-04:002005-06-07T22:03:37.990-04:00

I got my wisdom teeth out today. It turns out that three out of the four were impacted, but one was coming in perfectly. I got all out anyway. My teeth looked beautiful in the ex-ray, looking like corn on the cob, as my mom would say. Right now, however, my mouth is a different story. The gums in the back are ruptured and patched, and blood is collecting in the crevices of my molars. After

lcnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692612.post-1118084692856354802005-06-06T14:50:00.000-04:002005-06-06T15:05:44.336-04:00

Now I no longer have to flip through channels to find this precious gem. Easily the cutest commercial ever, with one of the cutest puppies ever. I watched it the first four times pretending that the puppy was actually singing and frolicking with his pup pals at camp. The next four times I imagined him as just a regular non-singing puppy who didn't know he was in a commercial and just happened to

lcnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692612.post-1117664673198817962005-06-01T17:58:00.000-04:002005-06-01T18:24:33.203-04:00

We were talking about blogs, specifically reading other people's blogs, when I was asked if I myself had one. I admitted I did, sort of, but stopped because now I have a boyfriend who will listen to the observations and introspections that I had once reserved for the blog. The others all found it adorable. Although it still holds true, I'm returning to writing because I'm afraid I'll lose

lcnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692612.post-1117648765484698922005-06-01T13:59:00.000-04:002005-06-01T14:04:39.223-04:00

B A C Ksha sha sha SHA!

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