327 Market

I can't believe its Weds already!

The ear-piercing screams from the next door day care have already started. I'd scream to, I suppose, if I had to say good-bye to my mother every morning. I feel sorry for the lady in charge... listening to that for 40 hours a week.

I was laying in bed reading Nest again. This time it was an article about the western fixation about bringing nature indoors. It was strangely devoid of illustrations (well, there were pictures, but they didn't seem to have much to do with the text). Its such a weird magazine... it looks like it was put together by drunken college students at 3AM. Who, in addition to be completely wasted, have a huge budget nonetheless. The text is sideways, they add weird elements to the photographs (such as drips of gold throughout the article about some 60's Hollywood house and the big red squares placed in the middle of the pictures of the Brooklyn coffee shop). Its mildly endearing, like they really don't take themselves, or their subject seriously. I wonder if they would hire me. I can do stupid stuff like that. The line between avant-garde and goofy is very fuzzy. Their advertising is often very ironic... I wonder that they get away with it.

I also read the last installment of Mr Levine's five volume epic. He talks about the war, and it was dated way back in spring of oh-three. I had forgotten that it had been going on for such a long time (DUH!) Where have I been? (Oh, that is right! Here. Speaking of, there was a really funny letter to the editor in the Metro, bashing our fair little town for its liberal leanings and general nastiness) One of the things that I like about his stuff is that its so personal and honest, its like reading his journal, or spending time with him. Understanding, of course, that it fictionalized, and written for publication.