About Time

Spring took its damn time.

It's finally nice enough to hang around outside, but it looks like we're going to go straight from frigid winter to sweltering summer without much spring in between. Shame. I like the low- to mid-60 degree weather: silk scarves, little leather jackets, French novels in translation.

Does weather affect what you want to read? I like English novels in the winter, French in the spring, Japanese or Latin American in the summer, and local New York literature in the fall. Comic books I just read year round, cuz there's no seasonal limits on asskicking.

I just finished reading Patti Smith's memoir "Just Kids," which isn't French, but she spent time in France and was heavily inspired by French poets, so it sort of counts. I've reviewed it on the other blog. But don't read it. Instead, go outside and view the dogwood blossoms if you have any.

http://bigislandrachelsbooks.blogspot.com/2011/04/just-kids-patti-smith.html

Fair Utica and other oddbits

It's been quite a while since I posted. A lot of the interesting things that happen to me these days are kinda-sorta confidential, because I spend most of my time in a Real Job and I have to protect my customers. Which is a shame, because I work at an art school, and you would not believe some of the--well, I won't brag about it. I don't want you to feel bad about what you're missing.

I can say that I went on a business trip up to Utica, NY a couple of weeks ago. Utica is a strange place, very Bruce Springsteen in its down-at-heel working-man vibe. They get 270 days of precipitation a year. It rained the whole time we were there and no one seemed to notice.

I've decided that business trips are pretty awesome. You get to stay in nice hotels with Sleepnumber beds and gossip with your coworkers around the breakfast table about what number you put your mattress on. (First night was an even 50; second night I cranked that sucker down to 15. It was like sleeping on pudding.) And you get to eat out for every meal, though that's a bit of a mixed blessing. Utica is heavily Italian and loves to cram meat and pasta down your neckhole, which is a big change from my usual diet of brown rice and steamed vegetables. Not bragging, it's just what's cheapest on my New York City working-girl budget. After ribs and steak and sausage and fries spaghetti with three kinds of cheese and spinach with breaded cheese topping, it was restful to get back to my Brooklyn apartment and raw peanut stash.

I love raw peanuts, by the way. I used to eat them out of birdseed trays when I was a little girl. Now I'm a big girl so I eat human peanuts.

Actually, Utica did have a lot of veggies to offer, but most of them were at breakfast. It's not my normal way of doing things, but it was pretty nice to have a big steaming heap of spinach, zucchini and carrots first thing in the morning. I'm going to see if I can work that into my normal routine.