I notice that BetteDavisLies over at Complacencies of the Peignoir has a post up about strange encounters of late. (If you’re not already reading this blog, may I politely insist that you do so immediately? It’s good stuff.) I have an incomplete and unoriginal theory about the strangeness that periodically seeps through the linen-wrapped Southern spring and summer days: It’s all about the heat. We all go a little more nuts the higher the mercury…
I’m about to pick a nit with the daily paper. I think I even beat Mediaverse to it! This is the big story on the M cover today, though it’s fairly buried in the online edition. It’s a Washington Post piece about online citizen journalists. It is curiously devoid of any reference to any Memphis citizen journalists. There are no breakout boxes with any links to local blogs that would qualify as being run by…
I met Field Guide today. She brought ice cream to my apartment! And now — don’t tell her — I’m getting her a ferret for Christmas. I also met Howell, he of the Zooey Deschanel/Winona Ryder/girls-who-look-like- they’re-wracked-with-guilt-and-self-doubt infatuation, but his blog is private so I can’t link to it. I love it when I meet online acquaintances and they turn out to be even awesomer than I had imagined.
FearlessVK and I met up today at the Brooks to check out the Pissarro exhibit, which we made our way through diligently and dutifully, paying homage and respect to the father of Impressionism and his dappled landscapes. Fearless isn’t the biggest fan of Impressionism, largely because of the ubiquity of its style throughout bland hotel rooms and flowery foyers all over the world. I’m a little more warm toward the style — even if I’m…
My favorite Mexican place opened up a new location on Union recently. I’ve eaten there twice now, and I have some thoughts. Of course it’s nice not to have to hoof it out to Perkins Etd. for my enchilada fix, so there’s that. Overall, my usual (the very unadventurous Lunch No. 7) isn’t quite as top-notch as it is at Perkins Etd. The sauce on the enchilada is darker and less sweet, but the chicken…
[for July 6] Forgot my real camera. Forgot to take a real picture. So here’s a lovely crapphone view of my desk at work. I’ll let you guess what’s going on in that picture on my computer. See, Lesley had to come into town and distract me with lunch at the Pizza Cafe (which I lurve despite my general wishy-washiness toward pizza) and tales of her mother and her mother’s crazy cats; crazy garden-destroying wildlife;…
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