Strong like Bull When I was younger, like in my twenties, I would complain about my lack of upper body strength. Because I'm mostly vain, I've actually developed a rather nice upper body if only to stave off the effects of gravity. The unexpected by-product of this vanity is that I now have the biceps of a pudgy sixteen year-old boy and the ability to dig my car out of any snow drift. Bring it on!


Revealing/Revelling In/ My Inner Self This explains so much (thanks to everyone who's already blogged about this quiz): avantegarde
You're Avante Garde Indie. You listen to abstract
music like free-jazz and Krautrock. You drink
too much coffee and you scare the fuck out of
the rest of us. We're afraid to call you
pretentious because we know that we all just
don't get it. There are few of you out there,
and most of you will probably die soon.

You Know Yer Indie. Let's Sub-Categorize.
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Someone sent me Belgian chocolates (real ones, from Belgium). I've eaten half the box. I feel sick in a fun, tingly, light-headed kind of way.
What You Say? My ears are still ringing from the David Bowie concert on Saturday. About three-quarters of the way through the show, I realized that I had done some damage to my eardrums when I couldn't hear the vocals anymore. Anyhoo, it was well worth it. From behind, Mr. Bowie still looked like the skinny ass dude he was 30 years ago. From the front, he looked fabulous and reminded me that you're never too old to wear really tight jeans. You may be too round, mind you, but you're never too old. My favourite song? "All the Young Dudes", made famous by the incomparable Mott the Hoople. Before the concert, had drinks at le Germain, a difficult to find boutique hotel on Mansfield with the best lychee martinis I've ever had. One review boasts that its restaurant "offers magnificent panorama views of rue Président-Kennedy". Since when is President-Kennedy a "view"? Regardless, the hotel is charming, but their sign is far too subtle--several of my friends walked right by it thinking that it was merely a swish office building lobby. In the meantime, if you see me, please shout very loudly and talk distinctly.


www.Buy-me-some shoes.com is available. Inspiration? Click here.
Finally! An Internet Dating Club that Understands Me!


"Person" - Is this your entitlement? I found the above scrawled on my Beetle this morning. Judging from the handwriting (fingerwriting?), I think it's the same person who kindly left me the VW Manifesto (see posting for November 17). What's up with this "person" trying to teach me a lesson about consumerism. I buy. I work. I appreciate fun design. I recycle. I give to charities. I eat organic whenever possible. I am aware that malaria kills more children in a day than is holy. I am painfully aware that I could have been living in a shotgun shack. I am not a capitalist running dog pig exploiting the masses. I just drive a Beetle. So fuck off. Incensed...


Ah, Xmas! I'm a sucker for Christmas. It helps that shopping is second nature to me--in fact, most of my gift buying is done. Other than the excuse to purchase or make gifts for the people in my life, I love that I seem to slow down a bit during the season. Last night I went to hear the Orpheus Singers do another fine few hours of choral music. This time, they chose lots of sacred music perfect for the human voice. There is little more uplifting--even if you're an atheist like me--than voices harmoniously filling that space between your ears and blocking out everything else. Next week: Handel's Messiah.


Why I Should Be Head of Merchandising at Target Spent the last few days in and around Boston with my friend L to celebrate American Thanksgiving and get in a ton of shopping. No trip to America is complete without a trip to Target, the upscale-WalMart-without-the-mandatory-employee-drug-tests retail giant. With clothes by designer Issac Mizrahi and household items designed by Michael Graves, Target appeals to the side of me that likes to scour church sales for something really cool for very little money. I know that Target and I go well together because I've anticipated many of their merchandising decisions well before I actually saw them in the store. Proof 1: For the past three years, I have been looking for a fake silver Christmas tree. No one makes them anymore. I need one to go with my ultra-cool Christmas tree stand, which is basically a brushed steel drum with several coloured lights in it. The drum rotates. It begs for a silver tree. The one that I've been using for the past few Christmases is a cheap green one I spray painted silver. This year, Target finally had real silver Christmas trees. In two sizes. They were really cheap. I bought both sizes. Proof 2: Target has recently offered a line of furniture made from plywood. I have just completed making my own furniture from plywood. We did this unbeknowst to one another. Spooky. I'm not sure, but I think this is a sign that I'm on the cutting edge of retail kitsch.