Hello, Failure

Of all the enemies of literature, success is the most insidious

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Failure of the Day: Four Hours

Sweet and slender tendrils of vacation smell are wafting up from… you know I don’t know if that's what that smell actually is, but let’s just for the sake of argument say it’s sweet and vacation-y and of somewhat mysterious origin, and O, I want it.

The last day of work before 12 uninterrupted days off. Chris is running around like a crazy person tying up loose ends and making sure everything at his job is taken care of, whereas I am watching time just full-on cease to advance at all, at all. Time hates me. Time is the little old lady I will eventually be trying to cross the street and giving me the finger for honking at her to speed it the fuck up already, granny!

Not. Even. Lunch. Time. Yet.

Monday, July 02, 2007

Failure of the Day: Week, Interrupted

I’m in full vacation mode. Our trip isn’t until later this month but it’s a holiday week and most everyone at work took the whole week off, so it’s slow and hot no one is in the mood to do much of anything. I’m also just completely relieved to be done with the DeLillo novel. I don’t mean to dismiss it as heavy, but I literally weighed more while I was reading it. I’ve lost 2 pounds since I finished it, no lie. And OK, it’s very good and it reads like what trauma actually feels like, the sense of disconnectedness, the repetition, the deadening boredom of feeling the same terrible thing every minute of the day for weeks on end, and that’s no small accomplishment of literature. But holy shit is it a drag to read.

San Jose is doing a thing for the holiday—who knows how they pulled it off but They Might Be Giants and Fountains of Wayne are playing in Discovery Meadows on Tuesday night. Which, in true sort-of-crap-town spirit, is technically the third and not the fourth, but I’m not complaining because it’s walking distance from our apartment and tickets are a whopping $10. It couldn’t be easier for us to see this concert if the drum kit were on my lap.

To rev up I’ve been re-listening to the new Fountains of Wayne CD, which sort of rubbed me the wrong way the first couple of times through. I’m warming up to it though. The music is at times nakedly exuberant even as the words bop along in their self-conscious pop cultural name dropping. I read a review that called them the best bet for impeccably produced, beach-ready power-pop, and you know, I’m so in the mood!