We publish a visionary author/architect/artist here named Les Walker, who wrote a book (basically just for me) about tiny houses. In the spirit of rejoicing over what is small, here is a tiny house just for you!
Archive for June, 2011
I found this (cut and pasted, literally, not e-) in a stained notebook of mine from college (upon Googleing, see it’s by one Etheridge Knight.) Damn, this is good shit.
Feeling Fucked Up
Lord she’s gone done and left me done packed/ up and split
and i with no way to make her
come back and everywhere the world is bare
bright bone white crystal sand glistens
dope death dead dying and jiving drove
her away made her take her laughter and her smiles
and her softness and her midnight sighs —
Fuck Coltrane and music and clouds drifting in the sky
fuck the seas and trees and the sky and birds
and alligators and all the animals that roam the earth
fuck marx and maxo fuck fidel and nkrumah and democracy and communism fuck smack and pot
and red ripe tomatoes fuck joseph fuck mary fuck
god jesus and all the disciples fuck fanon nixon
and malcolm fuck the revolution fuck freedom
the whole mothafucking thing
all i want now is my woman back
so my soul can sing
For realsies, this is no joke!
I have explained numerous times, verbally and in writing, my opportunity to be a zombie extra in the upcoming film produced by Brad Pitt’s production company today, so I’ll just copy and paste my plea for moolah from one of the two sources to which I applied. Well, first, here is my email to the casting agent, whose name I was given by a friend of my boss’:
Dear Ms. M,
And her response:
Thank you for your email about being part of our Glasgow crowd on World War Z. It would be a pleasure to be able to welcome you and PM along on the shoot!
We will be filming in Central Glasgow from 19th August until the end of the month and we will be able to fit in with whatever dates work best for you. Whilst keeping an eye on continuity and making sure you get a good spot and don’t end up at the back.
Please could you send pictures and if you are able your measurements in inches.
For you: Dress size, bust, waist, hips and shoe
And for Peter: Head size, collar, chest, waist, Inside leg and shoe.
When your pictures arrive I will show them to costume and see if we can let you have a costume brief as you may have clothes in your wardrobe that would suit or we may buy some things specifically for you.
This is my number to call if you have any questions at all in the meantime.
And here is my application to start a page on Kickstarter to raise funds for my $1,000 (give or take) plane ticket to Glasgow. There was a word count so I couldn’t get quite as cheeky as I wanted to (shame!) but it has all the relevant info.
$1,000 – $5,000
It’s kind of a long story, but basically I work for this well-known and sort of nutso publisher who happens to be friends with this Londoner named Ed who made a gazillion dollars (give or take) representing rock stars when they made book deals for their autobiographies and is a pretty cool dude, and he now represents this author named Max Brooks, who writes about zombies, the undead, et al (very big these days.) Max’s next book will be published by my maniac boss, and Max’s last book, WORLD WAR Z, is being made into a movie by Brad Pitt’s production co. They are hiring 1000 extras to play zombies in Glasgow, and the casting agent said I could be an extra, so I’m trying to raise money to get there. That’s the nutshell version.
Well, I don’t think I could offer a reward based on the movie, as I will be just a lowly extra and can’t get, like, tickets to the premiere or anything (for myself, let alone anyone else) BUT I am a writer and I am in the midst of writing what will be a fantastic and hilarious memoir about my former job working for a dying true crime writer (think TUESDAYS WITH MORRIE if Morrie were a wannabe Mafioso instead of a benevolent teacher-type.) Tony Danza features prominently in the plot. Anyway, for anyone who contributes to this fund, I plan to offer them a) a spot as an extra in the film version of that book (which obvi will happen, because come on: little blond WASPy amanuensis, dying irascible egomaniac, Tony Danza –– as himself –– playing his ukulele, hang out sesh-es with men in the WPP –– it’s just a given) and b) an autographed copy of that book and c) a personalized love letter from yours truly, which, if you have read this proposal carefully, you know will be rather spectacular.
Hm. I don’t have anything really up right now because I just got the email from the casting director this morning, but I’ll put some shtuff on my blog, which is https://itinerantdaughter.wordpress.com. Stay tuned. And I don’t know if I can stick this piece of info in there anywhere, but I only need about $1000 for the plane ticket, according to orbitz.com, but I put myself in the $1,000 – $5,000 bracket even though I need the bottom end. I’ll figure out accommodations on my own. Kisses!
Aaaaaaaaaaand I’m pretty sure they’re going to reject it because it’s not arty enough or something, but I say if my ex-boyfriend can fund his stop-motion clay animation film about “a shy, neurotic wolf (Faye) who develops a mysterious itch on her thigh as she tries to befriend a group of extroverted, freewheeling bunnies”, then I can try to fund this.
Of course you’re welcome to donate on your own and not through any sort of quasi-charitable channel. Just email me at firstname.lastname@example.org and I’ll tell you where to send your cold, hard cash.
I emerged from my office to find I had received 26 text messages in the hour I had been concentrating so heavily, and my first though was, “Jesus, I’m not THAT popular (though of course I am very popular.)” The following is the transcription of a “Disco” conversation –– a new service that offers group chat via text –– that occurred Monday afternoon. I have no idea how many people were invited or participated or… anything about what went on:
Text at 6:54 PM: Disco is a group texting service. Standard SMS rates may apply or chat for FREE w/ our app – http://disco.com/da More info? Text *help To quit? Text *leave
Text at 6:54 PM: Hi Itinerant Daughter, it’s YDN. Welcome to Disco! I just added you to “Text messages.” Reply to join our chat or text *who for roster.
Text at 6:55 PM: YDN added you to “Text messages.”
Text at 6:55 PM: JS: Interesting
Text at 6:56 PM: SL: Who/what is this?
Text at 6:56 PM: SL: Remove me
Text at 6:56 PM: JA: Do not text me
Text at 6:56 PM: AL: Wat is this
Text at 6:57 PM: AS: Who?
Text at 6:57 PM: MH: Not sure I liek this mass txt group chat! It aint the disco that’s for sure
Text at 6:57 PM: AS: hm that didn’t work, trying to get the roster
Text at 6:58 PM: SL: What this is — remove me.
Text at 6:58 PM: AL: How do i stop this
Text at 6:58 PM: JA: Pls remove me thanks
Text at 6:59 PM: JS: Wtf is going on?
Text at 6:59 PM: Eric: everyone stfu
Text at 6:59 PM: AZ: Hey y’all WTF is this
Text at 7:00 PM: AZ: Google takeover what what
Text at 7:00 PM: AL: Idk
Text at 7:00 PM: Looks like you’re not there. To save you trouble, we’ve muted the group. Reply to start receiving texts again. To leave, text *leave!
Text at 7:00 PM: CF: What is this
Text at 7:02 PM: AL: Everyone just dont txt
Text at 7:17 PM: Looks like you’re not there. To save you trouble, we’ve muted the group. Reply to start receiving texts again. To leave, text *leave!
Text at 7:17 PM: Dad: Shalom everyone
Text at 7:43 PM: ID: *LEAVE
Text at 7:42 PM: You left the group. Text *create to start a new group. eg ‘*create work buddies’.
Text at 10:21 PM: CF, AO, HS and 49 others joined the group today. To see the member list, text *who.
Text at 10:27 PM: EC: Please remove me
Text at 10:29 PM: JS: Clearly no one has the power to remove anyone. The only way to stop this is for everyone to stop replying. Hopefully this will be the last one.
Text at 10:35 PM: CF: Here this guy should. Steve jobs twitter account “Applejobs” maybe Yale can set up a spam on him next time…
Text at 11:59 PM: B: Leave
Text at 10:20 AM: JL left. To see the member list, text *who.
My brother IS and I just realized we may still have an active Twitter?! Total followers: three. They include: some guy named Andy, a group… that I forget the name of, and IS (on another account.) We’re confused. My bro just tweeted at me/us a very accurate approximation of our:
12:32 PST 22JUN2011 @Itinerantdaughterandson: sitting in an office
12:32 PST 23JUN2011 @Itinerantdaughterandson: sitting in an office
12:32 PST 24JUN2011 @Itinerantdaughterandson: sitting in an office
When people in front of you neglect to take their receipts after using the ATM and you can check their bank balance. Guy in front of me the other day has $17,052.26 in his checking account. Fucking asshole.
Remind me to tell you later about the humanitarian organization I plan to start that will take money from those blatantly undeserving of such gratuitous wealth (see: PerezHilton.com’s post which features a spread of photos from Kate Hudson’s palatial California home) and give it to regular good ole folk (i.e. me.)
I’ve been looking for an image for a while because I’m so into graphology and text and I realized that maybe it was all becoming a little dull (as maybe no one but me finds writing the same word over and over again fascinating and/or aesthetically provocative) and voila! Today I discovered in Vogue (I admit this with a slight degree of shame) the artist Dasha Shishkin, whose garishly colored and gleefully macabre paintings are sooooooo up the alley where I live (it’s a weird place up there.)
I also adore in this article about her that she claims a few years ago her New Year’s resolution was to “be hilarious.”
A few years ago I had a gig reviewing literary magazines for a book blog with a cheeky name (I still contribute, sometimes, and adore the content of the site.) I wasn’t entirely enamored of the process of reviewing lit mags, but I did get my hands on one issue of a fantastic rag (misnomer, I know) called Tin House. (It’s quite well known, and I know that, so excuse the overly revelatory tone.) The issue I reviewed had a theme of “off the grid”: it chronicled communities and peoples “on the edge,” which is where I’m moving toward (am?) Almost every piece felt like a gift: there was a short story from the point of view of a woman with dementia, a poem with hints of Plath, and a delightful essay on the bathroom attendants of Paris, which of course this Francophile devoured even though she had always felt awkward around “le dames pipi,” as they’re known. The issue also had seven reviews of books, including one compilation of letters sent to Mount Wilson Observatory in California, mostly from schizophrenics and people with delusional disorders. I wanted this book oh so much, and I think, because I underlined it, that these sentences sold me on it:
“It’s amazing and heartbreaking to read an insane person’s attempt to build a case. It’s like reading a dream as it unfolds.”
So at some point I lost the magazine in the morass of my apartment, though I, as they say in romance novels, never forgot the book.
Cut to two years later: I’m at work, trying to figure out if I should add more books to my order from Barnesandnoble.com (already in the shopping cart were Drinking: A Love Story by Caroline Knapp, Gravity and Grace by Simone Weil, and Suicide by Edouard Leve –– all of which I’m SUPER EXCITED FOR, which will sound super weird if you read the synopses) and I was musing to WOD, an editorial assistant/Guy Friday at my office, about how I wanted to find this book I had wanted, in various degrees (as in, thought about every so often to lost sleep over), for years. “It’s like… these crazy people… who wrote letters to this space… observatory… place.” Obviously not the best bet for Google. Title? Nada. Editor, publisher? Zilch. I decided to let it go, again. UNTIL! I got home that evening, and my roommate and I were cleaning out tons of old magazines left by my roommate who moved out to live with her very irascible graffiti artist boyfriend and THEN I FOUND OMG THE “OFF THE GRID” ISSUE OF TIN HOUSE! Immediately I raced to the Museum of Jurassic Technology’s website (they published Letters to Mount Wilson Observatory) and ordered myself a copy ($10! at the Store) and read the missives to space observers (quite short) in about a day. My favorites:
Postcard from an Unknown Person
Mr. Wilson of Mount Wilson Observatory
PLEASE SHOW MR. EINSTEIN YOUR BIG TELESCOPE SO HE CAN TELL US ALL ABOUT IT HE HAS NO BIG TELESCOPE YOU KNOW BUT WE KNOW HE IS A BIG SCIENTIFIC MAN IN EDUCATION HE IS CONSIDERED EVEN GREATER THAN CHARLEY CHAPLIN HURAY FOR ALL THE JEWS WE WILL SOON RULE THE WORLD SOME FELLOWS DO NOT LIKE US BUT WE GOT THE MONAY HURAY
Letter from Unknown Person
The Observers at Mount Wilson
READ – THEN PASS THE EARTH is FLAT and
TO A PROPER PERSON STANDS FAST. PROVE IT
Delusions, or fictions in some cases have become public opinions – as in the case of the shape of the earth. I dreamed last night I was in a court – when a man arose and made a charge against me. No action against me being taken by the judge – I followed my accuser from the court room and outside – I asked him what is the trouble?
He said – you told my hired man that the earth was flat and stands fast. He being an educated foreigner made a drawing to show your plan of a flat earth. Then he took a copy of the plan and began to fasten it to the outside wall of a building looked at the drawing and I said it was good work Let it stay. My accuser then took the copy of the drawing from the wall and threw it on the earth. I picked it up and took it into the court and showed it to the judge – and he saw there were two copies. I then took my seat in the court and peace.
I also had a dream that I had been making new earth from waste materials including the flesh and grease of animals. The pile heated and burned – and the surface gave way in places and smoke came up.
Thus the earth – as a whole – in places was made.
Aug. 29, 1920
Historian Boston, Mass.
The builders of Greece came from a country west from Egypt beyond the ocean – which of course was America. The authors of the Bible tell us that the father of Abraham came to Egypt or Palestine from over the flood – which means that the father of Abraham came from a country west from Egypt beyond the ocean – which of course means America. The father of Abraham mated with a woman or women of Egypt or Palestine from whom came the Israelites in part at least. The Hindus in the Rigveda tell us about Heaven – that was beyond the dawn. This means that to the Hindus in India – Heaven was beyond 105 or 120 degrees of longitude east from India – as the dawn means east from any place – and in the Rigveda the place was India. 105 or 120 degrees of longitude east would be a long way to Heaven – n ow called America.
Other books I want from this issue:
How to Do Nothing With Nobody All Alone By Yourself by Robert Paul Smith
Testimonies of the Life, Character, Revelations, and Doctrines of Our Ever Blessed Mother Ann Lee, and the Elders with Her by Rufus Bishop and Seth Young Wells
The Passion According to G. H. by Clarice Lispector
Paris Peasant by Louis Aragon
You should probably buy them for me as gifts and send them to me at my only permanent address:
c/o The Guggenheim Museum
1071 5th Avenue
New York, NY 10128
So I saw a headline on a newspaper this morning (forget which one, maybe the Post but I don’t think so) that read
WOMAN IN “RAPE COP” CASE SAYS ACQUITTAL “BROUGHT ME TO MY KNEES”
And my first thought was, “Too soon?”
My irreverence knows no bounds, and that, sometimes, is pretty fucking bad. I believe this is what they call in Alcoholics Anonymous “a moment of clarity.”