Gwenda

Monday Hangovers

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The Stuff of Happiness

Snitched from Meghan. Stuff I like, because sometimes it’s good to stop and think about good stuff.

1. Wallaby brand Australian-style yogurt. Seriously, the most delicious yogurt in the world. You must try. You will be happy. Orange Passion Fruit flavor. Any flavor. Yum.

2. Magic. Not the kind with the K. The kind with magicians and tricks and fascinating histories, etc. 

3. Freaks. Obviously. But for lots of reasons, including an innate pull toward outsiders of any kind. (Also, related to the link: anything that Rosamond Purcell does.)

4. Television. Unapologetically, I love it. (Only good television, obvs., or at least so bad it’s entertaining.) After a long day, after a short day. I try not to watch it in huge lumps of time, but I don’t feel guilty when I do. And what would you do when you were sick if TV didn’t exist?

5. The VA parking garage. We just got a permit for the VA parking garage, which is across the street from our gym. Previously, going to the gym involved vulture-circling for a spot and paying way too much into a meter. Now it just involves a half-a-block walk. It’s the little things.

6. Hawaii. I very much want to go back. It’s a magic place (again, not with the K, but this time not with the tricks either). All this Jack London and Mark Twain talk of late is making me long.

7. These shoes. (With kudos to the Style Queen.) Now if only I could find/afford a pair.

8. Being in motion. Even if it’s in my chair, typing away.

9. A really great conversation. Especially with someone I just met.

10. Mr. T. Because he defies logic.

11. Music with some space. I like music that has a landscape in it that you can freefall through.

12. Songs you can’t help singing along to. "Jessica," "Who’s Got the Crack?" (or anything by The Moldy Peaches, really), "Moonshiner," "Heliopolis by Night," etc.

13. The South. Which shall not rise again.

14. Teenagers. They rock, they’re infuriating, they’re like matches waiting to throw sparks. It’s why I write about and for them.

15. A new Karen Joy Fowler novel. This is an official request of the universe and Karen. (Actually, KJF in general would be perfectly at home on this list too.)

16. Giving someone a present. Is there anything better? (Obligatory Xmas pressies not included.)

17. You. Assuming you’re not creepy.

(p.s. Gmail has been down (for me, anyway) all day, but seems to be back up. So if I owe you a reply from the last couple days, expect it later tonight.)

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Saturday Hangovers

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Vicariously

So despite the fact my fingers were crossed the entire time, Maureen McHugh didn’t win The Story Prize:

The Hill Road by Patrick O’Keeffe, published by Viking, was named the winner of The Story Prize at the New School’s Tishman Auditorium in New York City on the evening of Jan. 25, 2006. O’Keeffe accepted the first prize of $20,000 and an engraved silver bowl. The other two finalists for The Story Prize were Jim Harrison for The Summer He Didn’t Die (Atlantic Monthly Press) and Maureen F. McHugh for Mothers & Other Monsters (Small Beer Press).

However, it sounds like the whole experience was a blast anyway (I wonder if any of the other finalists went out with ARGers?). And it is still unbelievably awesome that Mothers was a finalist. (I know nothing about the O’Keeffe; anyone read it?)

It looks as if the entire event is up online, which would include readings by all three authors.

For a Web cast of The Story Prize award night go to www.online.newschool.edu and click on ‘Special Events.’

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Friday Hangovers

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Light Phenomena

Ander Monson is holding court about Other Electricities in most delightful fashion:

I can, however, speak to my intentions, and I see the voice as being either the mother (who is herself a mystery–probably dead, though possibly gone to Canada, and her postcards on the website serve, I hope, to complicate this–and maybe that’s a metaphor regardless, Canadian as dead (at least to these characters–I should say I have nothing against Canada, since where I’m from we’re practically Canadian, we get their TV, their sports, much of their culture, but the space North of the border is this big Other up there–white space, the unknown, my own personal Congo/Heart of Darkness or whatever). The voice of the mother (though again it’s possibly some even weirder thing speaking, a sort of greek chorus in the book, or the place, or the town, or the Paulding Light, which is real, by the way (you can see a bizarro low-budget film in the style of the Blair Witch Project at:  Paulding Light.com)) (and sorry for my nested parentheses, which might be a bit ridiculous, but I like them) is one of the few times in the book where there’s real solace offered to Yr Protagonist, or to the other characters.

Canadian(s), can you dispute this? And the Paulding Light is real. Who knew? Please consider this a plea for all writers to incorporate real mysterious lights into their books.

I will even forgive the fact that Ander Monson (b. 1975) makes me (b. 1976) feel like a 1991er.

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Wednesday Hangovers

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Things That Make Me Nervous

Maureen Ryan generates her dream line-up for the new net announced today:

News came Tuesday that the WB and UPN will shut down in the fall, and the best shows from each network will migrate to a new broadcast network called The CW, a joint venture between Warner Bros. Entertainment and CBS.

Personally, I’m still hoping this doesn’t mean anything bad for Gilmore Girls or Veronica Mars (now that would be a great night of television). I could very easily see GG ending this season. (Although, perhaps this actually helps its chances, as the new net may pony up more bucks to ASP to keep it for their first season.) I would sob if VM ends this year.

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