Listening to: Over at Ameer's new music blog, I'm going to be guest posting every week or so. My first Select Sundays just went up and features a song, and a band, I got obsessed with just two days ago while trying to organize and pack up out of San Diego. You'll love the track too I'm sure.
Currently pushing: Slightly Foxed. Awhile back I picked up a whole bunch of short story journals at a SF Public Library Big Book Sale. Included in the haul were stuff like Glimmer Train, Zoetrope, Zyzzyva, and a few issues of something called Slightly Foxed. When I travel I'd grab one or two of these as they were the perfect size for stuffing into a bag and short enough for any amount of waiting time. While I'd gotten through most of the Glimmer Trains and double Z magazines, I hadn't read any of the Slightly Foxed ones yet. Turns out I really should have because they're fantastic. I'll let their about page do the talking:
"In case you haven't come across it, Slightly Foxed is a rather unusual book review. Friendly and unstuffy, each quarter it offers 96 pages of lively personal recommendations for books of lasting interest -- books that have stood the test of time and have left their mark on the people who write about them. It's an eclectic mix, covering all the main categories of fiction and non-fiction, and our contributors are an eclectic bunch too. Some of them are names you'll have heard of, some not, but all write thoughtfully, elegantly and entertainingly."They remind me of Nick Hornby's old Stuff I've Been Reading column in McSweeney's, which I loved and miss dearly. I tried to do a similar thing years ago but lost the motivation. Plus I haven't been reading this year. So in an effort to get back on the wagon, I'm going to dig into some more Slighted Foxed and get all inspired to write about reading. Here's some extracts from the magazine. Check them out and you'll see what I mean about how great the magazine is. Now if only I had an address so I could get a subscription.
I hear it's summer solstice today and since I can't seem to sleep a lick on my first night back in New York, I'm gonna figure out where to go park myself and re-read Protector of the Small: First Test, and then fall asleep outdoors to soak in all fifteen hours of daylight.
It's not as hot here as I'd imagined, so now I'm thinking it's a good idea I brought two pairs of pants. I hate not being able to wear shorts in the summer but conceded that being an adult means wearing pants at night. I also hear the end of the week will bring rain and thunderstorms. I'm anti-umbrella and am lacking a jacket so this should be interesting. I also broke out a new pair of shiny white Chucks for the trip and I'm already sad at the prospect of getting them sullied. Why must things get dirty oh guy or gal in the sky? Can't everything remain impeccably clean forever? Signed, a concerned and definitely OCDish Virgo.
Last of all: "Good morning my neighbors!"