Failure of the Day: Weekend
Really, I don’t know. Had a great batch of insomnia over the weekend, the main product of which was a dream about Matt Gonzalez and an idea for a t-shirt slogan:
Getting
Republicans
Elected
Every
November
But I’m pretty sick of my impotent political rage, and nobody is interested in what I have to say about SF politics anyway because as a non-Mission resident, I’m not really a San Franciscan, right?
NaNo is a total wash I’m afraid. I got to just under 15,000 words but then seriously rebelled against any activity that I had to force myself to get through. After editing so many hundreds and hundreds of pages for work, I really couldn't bear any more pages of bad prose, including my own. It’s not that I didn’t have the will, it that I didn’t have the strength to spend the time even trying to summon the will. It’s possible that I will start up again even knowing that I won’t hit 50K. I couldn’t complain with 35K by December 1 since I’m just making a nice source for bits to put into the other novel.
I am expecting a slow week at work though, and maybe Martin Amis will light a fire under my butt.
The other failure of the weekend is somewhat more startling—a failure of my faithlessness in my legs. That’s a dopey way of saying I bought a pair of intolerably beautiful Kenneth Cole high-heeled pumps. They were expensive as all hell and I have nothing to wear them with or to, but that somehow doesn’t bother me at all. I love them. I love them and I wanted them and I don’t get to smoke anymore and so I get to have the damn shoes. But it worries me that I continue to move further and further away from the idea that saved me: the floor you cannot fall lower than is the safest place on earth.
It was kind of a slow week for buying green things for my room, too. Chris got me a cute green mouse pad but I struck out repeatedly in my quest to pick up a few of the $10 lime green beanbag chairs we saw at Target last week. Turns out when Target says a product is “seasonal” they’re not kidding around. There were dozens of them in the store last weekend; this weekend we went to three different Target stores and found not one single lime green beanbag chair. Fuckers.
Finally, I got new eyeglasses; my first since 1993. They are fantastic, and are at this moment en route especially for me from France because I am, in fact, just that fancy. Lime! Green! Cat-eyes! When I wear them, everyone will just bow down in recognition of my unique and unimpeachable taste.
Really, I don’t know. Had a great batch of insomnia over the weekend, the main product of which was a dream about Matt Gonzalez and an idea for a t-shirt slogan:
Getting
Republicans
Elected
Every
November
But I’m pretty sick of my impotent political rage, and nobody is interested in what I have to say about SF politics anyway because as a non-Mission resident, I’m not really a San Franciscan, right?
NaNo is a total wash I’m afraid. I got to just under 15,000 words but then seriously rebelled against any activity that I had to force myself to get through. After editing so many hundreds and hundreds of pages for work, I really couldn't bear any more pages of bad prose, including my own. It’s not that I didn’t have the will, it that I didn’t have the strength to spend the time even trying to summon the will. It’s possible that I will start up again even knowing that I won’t hit 50K. I couldn’t complain with 35K by December 1 since I’m just making a nice source for bits to put into the other novel.
I am expecting a slow week at work though, and maybe Martin Amis will light a fire under my butt.
The other failure of the weekend is somewhat more startling—a failure of my faithlessness in my legs. That’s a dopey way of saying I bought a pair of intolerably beautiful Kenneth Cole high-heeled pumps. They were expensive as all hell and I have nothing to wear them with or to, but that somehow doesn’t bother me at all. I love them. I love them and I wanted them and I don’t get to smoke anymore and so I get to have the damn shoes. But it worries me that I continue to move further and further away from the idea that saved me: the floor you cannot fall lower than is the safest place on earth.
It was kind of a slow week for buying green things for my room, too. Chris got me a cute green mouse pad but I struck out repeatedly in my quest to pick up a few of the $10 lime green beanbag chairs we saw at Target last week. Turns out when Target says a product is “seasonal” they’re not kidding around. There were dozens of them in the store last weekend; this weekend we went to three different Target stores and found not one single lime green beanbag chair. Fuckers.
Finally, I got new eyeglasses; my first since 1993. They are fantastic, and are at this moment en route especially for me from France because I am, in fact, just that fancy. Lime! Green! Cat-eyes! When I wear them, everyone will just bow down in recognition of my unique and unimpeachable taste.
posted by Nancy @ 5:28 PM
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