It’s a challenge to keep your body aligned and your core strengthened when you’re sitting at the desk all day slumped over a notebook and computer. Still, that’s no excuse. I really must get back to Pilates. (Hi, Alexandro! Ti adoro! Kisses!)
I am listening (on my headphones in “We’re Working,” but also on my headphones in life) to The Pains of Being Pure At Heart. They’re going on tour. It’s easy to listen to the album over and over and over so that it becomes like silence and a person can write to it. When I saw their show in Brooklyn last month and my exuberant companion stalked them afterwards at the bar, their lead singer told us, “I was fired from my marketing job in November, but my music has really taken off, so I think I might do this for a while.” I love people who are fired from their marketing jobs.
If facebook were the real world, and we could really just hide people we had pretended to be friends with while not offending them and without them knowing we had disqualified them from our lives, would everyone not be happier? Or would the world then be even worse off than we were in high school?
I can’t decide.
It’s no secret that facebook depresses me. And yet I find it compelling. Like most things that depress me.
Note: I have made the important decision not to capitalize “facebook.”
(incidentally, when I asked Russel why A Character Called Russel is looking in the trash bin, he said that originally his script had called for ACCR to pick a fast food bag out of the green-organic-matter bin, but that Rafi showed up late to shoot and they didn’t have time to do the fast food bag bit…this explains, also, why ACCR is taking the trash out in what is clearly orange afternoon light.)
My brother Russel lives downstairs from me in a duplex in Hollywood. It’s a bit of a Three’s Company situation. Russel has now created a totally fictional web series based very loosely on the goings on around here. It’s called “We’re Working.” Obviously!
Please note the excellent product placement in A Character Called Katherine’s apartment.
Thank you, Russel, for giving me something new to post to this blog/thing. Also, I have just noticed that my office chair matches the RFSG paperback cover.
My Bookreporter essay recalls an extremely disastrous small-town Christmas horror show, while every other author featured in their 2-month long author-holiday-gift-giving-essay extravaganza recalls some heartwarming Christmas memory involving the Swiss Family Robinson and Louisa May Alcott and — I kid you not — e.e. cummings.
It’s just an observation.
I think disaster is funny and heartwarming.
Also, does this mean no one else has a brother whose old girlfriend is a knife-wielding killer? Really? I think you guys are lying.
