Syllabus #157

Hello from the alleys of East Nashville, where I've been lurking like the piece of human garbage I am.   

the only cat I can get near right now because cats can suffer from covid

Seriously.  After 2.5 years of thinking I was something special, an immunological unicorn, I'm finally forced to take a big ol' bite of this rancid panini sammich.  Which I can't even taste because, what do you know, I've lost my ability to smell or taste pretty much anything.  Fart right next to me, go ahead.  Dutch oven me if you dare.  

The alleys have more shade and less people, so sometimes when I have to get out of the house righthtisverysecondorIwillscream I walk in the alleys.  Also I can't tell anymore that they smell like trash juice, so, as Martha Stewart would say, it's a good thing.

Honestly it's been refreshing to have something new to bitch about other than my car.  

I kid, I kid.  Because I've been doing both.  In fact, I spent an inordinate amount of time on the phone this past week trying to get the claims adjuster to pick up, but apparently he just went AWOL after he decided my car was totaled and had it towed to a salvage yard without my knowledge or permission.  

It's been fun!  I'm supposed to be on vacation right now but instead I've been in my bedroom since Tuesday afternoon, praying for it to rain so the asshats setting off fireworks in broad daylight in a drought wouldn't burn down this entire zip code.  It's raining as I type, so at least there's that.

Watching:  Watching?  What is this totally uncharacteristic thing I've been doing?  Normally, if I watch an hour of TV a week, that's a lot.  But my weak, pitiful covid brain can only handle so much at the moment.  During times when I'm just zoning out a little, or eating one of my sad, hastily prepared meals on the floor in my sealed-off bedroom, I've been watching Abbott Elementary and it is as SNACK.  It's like The Office meets It's Always Sunny, toned down for network TV and set in a South Philly elementary school.  I know, I know, I slept on this show when it came out, what, a year ago?  But also, we only have HBO and Netflix, and this is a Hulu show.  I decided to treat myself to a monthlong free trial (please remind me to cancel on July 28th) so I can watch Abbott and Fire Island.

And watch Fire Island I did.  I capped off Pride month by laying in bed with my laptop, sequestered in my bedroom, and watched Fire Island.  If Abbott is a snack, Fire Island is a whole ice cream sundae, dripping with hot fudge, smothered in whipped cream, topped with a cherry, and, duh, garnished with a load of wet nuts.  

I also started watching the Hulu adaptations of Sally Rooney's Normal People and Conversations with Friends.  I really like Jemima Kirke so I think I'll stick with Conversations.  There is something about the portrayal of the Marianne character in Normal People that is making me uncomfortable.  Maybe because she is exactly as socially awkward and abrupt as I am afraid I come across to people?

Analog Reading:

Finished Chuck Klosterman's The Nineties.  Ah, it was a simpler time.

Tom Perrotta's new Tracy Flick Can't Win.  If I had read this under more clear-headed circumstances, I might have a few critical opinions of the book, but as it stands, I friggin loved it.  The ending really, as they say, escalated quickly, and I did shed one lone tear over Tracy's final chapter.

Read Sea of Tranquility by Emily St. John Mandel.  It was beautiful and had what I'll call a tasteful amount of science fiction.  I don't go in for too much space shit, where the technology and the physics of it all take center stage.  If I'm going to touch anything that can be classified in that genre, it's got to have human protagonists, it has to focus on the emotional or societal ramifications of the situation, and it can't dwell too much on world building and describing technology.  Tell me a story, don't give me a Dell warranty.  And this followed my instructions flawlessly.  A wonderful, moving, human tale about time travel, pandemics, and the possibility that we live in a simulation.

Nearly finished Scoundrel: How a Convicted Murderer Persuaded the Women Who Loved Him, the Conservative Establishment, and the Courts to Set Him Free by Sara Weinman.  I kind of hate it?  But I've come so far waiting for it to get interesting that I'll probably finish it.  Nobody is truly sympathetic in the book, and it's too procedural for my taste.  But I'm a glutton for that sunk cost fallacy, so here we are.

Started the latest from David Sedaris, Happy-Go-Lucky.  What is there to say?  Of course it's excellent.  It's not as shockingly funny as some of his other essay collections, and it deals with some heavier themes, but his observational acuity and verbal deft are always a treat.