mon deux monday
Former SFR writer Maria Luisa Tucker has a good story today on hip hop and politics in Alternet.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we are simultaneously working on this week's issue and next week's first Gift Guide. There is nothing more life affirming than trying to put out two publications simultaneously. Life-affirming as in, "Am I still breathing?" Life affirming as in, "I hyperventilate, therefore I am." In other exciting news, I do not ever want to take antibiotics again. The run is done, but the "I've killed every good bacteria in my body" lingers. Also, turns out weird crack-like antihistimine was not solely responsible for insomnia as I am off it and yet still not sleeping. Now, yes, I can sleep when I'm dead etc., etc., but it would be nice to just every now and then feel rested. At least a little bit. Am on week four or so of driving the speed limit. Driving the speed limit means I am being tailgated and passed everywhere I go and have to clench my little fists on my steering wheel as people pass me in my car that, according to the speedometer, can go up to 170 miles an hour. I do not like being passed and tailgated. The question is whether I like it less than I liked being pulled over and ticketed every other day. The real question is why aren't the people passing and tailgating me getting ticketed? Well, perhaps they are, but not in front of me which might, sadly, make me feel better.
No, I am not attending either booksigning of Richardson's autobiography. I'm still reading it and, I imagine, I can get him to sign it at some future date should this seem like something I need to do.
Oh God, people are knocking down the door and the phone is ringing off the hook. I guess I'm supposed to be working.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we are simultaneously working on this week's issue and next week's first Gift Guide. There is nothing more life affirming than trying to put out two publications simultaneously. Life-affirming as in, "Am I still breathing?" Life affirming as in, "I hyperventilate, therefore I am." In other exciting news, I do not ever want to take antibiotics again. The run is done, but the "I've killed every good bacteria in my body" lingers. Also, turns out weird crack-like antihistimine was not solely responsible for insomnia as I am off it and yet still not sleeping. Now, yes, I can sleep when I'm dead etc., etc., but it would be nice to just every now and then feel rested. At least a little bit. Am on week four or so of driving the speed limit. Driving the speed limit means I am being tailgated and passed everywhere I go and have to clench my little fists on my steering wheel as people pass me in my car that, according to the speedometer, can go up to 170 miles an hour. I do not like being passed and tailgated. The question is whether I like it less than I liked being pulled over and ticketed every other day. The real question is why aren't the people passing and tailgating me getting ticketed? Well, perhaps they are, but not in front of me which might, sadly, make me feel better.
No, I am not attending either booksigning of Richardson's autobiography. I'm still reading it and, I imagine, I can get him to sign it at some future date should this seem like something I need to do.
Oh God, people are knocking down the door and the phone is ringing off the hook. I guess I'm supposed to be working.
posted by Julia at 2:00 PM
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