I love “Empire State of Mind” from Jay-Z’s newest album. Check out Alicia Keys playing piano in the middle of Times Square and awkwardly dancing with Jay-Z on the TKTS stairs.
More strange, less ha ha
There are fiction class exercises, and then there’s the marathon - the up to 25 pages of material for everyone in class to read and critique.
My first workshop experience was thought provoking and encouraging. Everyone thought the writing was funny, the dialogue strong, the characters interesting.
Then my instructor said soberly, “But I think Amanda’s holding back.”
A year later, I’m home
Today my friend Jeremy came over and helped me turn my apartment into a home, my living room into a room worth living.
I’m tired and have major cleaning ahead of me tomorrow.
But I’m home.
It only took a year.
The closest thing to love
Next Thursday, I have yet another hunk of writing due for my fiction workshop. I don’t know what I was thinking when I signed up to turn in so much writing two weeks after the last batch.
I know! Probably that I’d be able to get Junot Diaz to ghostwrite.
In exactly two days, I’m going to freak out and be unable to consume any media - it’ll be all about pooping it out. So I’m trying to get some reading in tonight. The following dialogue from Carrie Fisher’s Postcards from the Edge grabbed me.
Which makes me a very picky casting director
I regale my co-worker friend Clark with my more interesting dating stories. And believe me, they’ve been interesting. Alas, I can’t blog most of them.
So I just tell friends offline, including Clark. It’s nice to get a guy’s - especially a normal guy’s - opinion.
B.A. in English with a minor in Annoying
Without further ado, I present my second video post.
I may have to take this down later and start charging for lessons.
A crash from off the wagon
Tonight’s the night I’m stumped.
Things worth waiting for
1. The first big winter snowfall
2. Cider donuts
3. Opening up a new bottle of shampoo
Worth their wait in gold
I’ve been thinking of things worth waiting for.
I have front burner goals for my life, but they’re nebulous. I guess they’re more like stuff in the kitchen cabinets that flows onto the counter. Then on the floor, down the hall…
They don’t fit in one place.
Blame it on the fumes
Today my friend Jeremy helped me paint part of my living room.
Painting called for apartment origami, as there’s no adequately-sized place to put all the furniture that needed to be moved.
Actually, doing most anything at home in NYC involves apartment origami. I know people who store clothes in their kitchens and wash dishes in the bathtub.
