Songs Used To Good Effect In Popular Television Series

In addition to shoes, I bought the first season of Mad Men with my first paycheck. Watching it again has been as enthralling as watching it the first time, but since I know to expect the sexism I don't get so worked up about it--a win-win!

I watched the final episode last night and it closes with the main characters' marriage (still) on the rocks, with "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right." And listening to it, I thought, "Man, those are some bitter lyrics. But such a pretty tune. And wow, does that really work well to close the first season."

So here is some early Bob Dylan for your listening pleasure:

So True

I think this has been making the rounds, but I had to post it anyway: It's a fake "internet age writing course description and syllabus," from McSweeney's, and it makes writers everywhere feel very smug and vindicated. The whole thing is here (check out "Week 7: Blogging"--not so smug now!) and a sample is below:

Course Description

As print takes its place alongside smoke signals, cuneiform, and hollering, there has emerged a new literary age, one in which writers no longer need to feel encumbered by the paper cuts, reading, and excessive use of words traditionally associated with the writing trade. Writing for Nonreaders in the Postprint Era focuses on the creation of short-form prose that is not intended to be reproduced on pulp fibers.

Tuesday Project Roundup: Types Of Dots

Aspirin dot:


And pin dot:

The aspirin dot is a knit that I've made into a t-shirt dress (I want to wait to get a modeled shot) and the pin dot will be a little 60's shift soon.

And then I think I need to really work on the quilt that's languishing at my parents' house, because the closet is getting so packed with clothing that it's going to becoming super-dense and turn into a supernova. It's that full.

Let's Talk About My Hair

In the past two years my hair has gone from being this curly:

to what could only be called "wavy" if you're feeling generous. My hair has betrayed me, and now I don't know what to do with it.

In the winter I cut it even shorter, hoping for a Jean Seberg look:
But, in the words of the wife in a Hemingway short story*, "I get so tired of looking like a boy."

It's been nearly 10 years since I had long hair; I didn't do anything special with my hair when it was long (although it was curly then, AHEM, HAIR); and I know I would hate growing it out. But. I find myself staring at pictures of braids and long glossy hair and echoing that Hemingway character:
"I want to pull my hair back tight and smooth and make a big knot at the back that I can feel. . . . And I want to eat at a table with my own silver and I want candles. And I want it to be spring and I want to brush my hair out in front of a mirror and I want a kitty and I want some new clothes."

In other words, I don't know what I want.

*The story is "Cat in the Rain," from In Our Time.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. This article in the NY Times made me smile: A 67-year-old trying to set a new land speed record essentially bought a JET and put wheels on it. He'll be the driver when they try to set the record--800 mph.

2. Did you know Audrey Tatou (of Amelie) is starring as Coco Chanel in a new French movie? I will have to see that. For now, you can see the trailer here--with subtitles provided by a high-school student of French. (The official English trailer isn't out yet.)

3. Here is Toby in a bag. Just because.

Robins: What Do They Do All Winter, Anyway?

Yesterday evening was so pretty; all the robins were singing. I've noticed them in the early mornings, too, which is my favorite part of late spring. So here is a poem about one bird starting to sing early, by our friend Wallace Stevens:

Not Ideas About the Thing But the Thing Itself

At the earliest ending of winter,
In March, a scrawny cry from outside
Seemed like a sound in his mind.

He knew that he heard it,
A bird's cry at daylight or before,
In the early March wind.

The sun was rising at six,
No longer a battered panache above snow . . .
It would have been outside.

It was not from the vast ventriloquism
Of sleep's faded papier mâché . . .
The sun was coming from outside.

That scrawny cry—it was
A chorister whose c preceded the choir.
It was part of the colossal sun,

Surrounded by its choral rings,
Still far away. It was like
A new knowledge of reality.

Potato-Growing Methods To Celebrate Earth Day

I've always thought that potatoes need a lot of space, but look at what the internet has shown me: I can grow potatoes vertically!

The full story is here, along with a lot of step-by-step photos. Of course, I don't have room to store my harvest in the apartment...I suppose I could dig a root cellar.

Tuesday Project Roundup: The Inevitable Fail

When I wasn't arguing with my boyfriend (sorry, hon) or yelling at the neighbors (sorry, lady) this last week, I was finishing a sweater that turned out too big. (Sorry, yarn.) I wanted it to look like this girl's version but something happened with the neckline and it ended up looking like this when it was done blocking:

Oh well, I did finish two other sweaters this season that fit and that I wear, so that's a record anyway. This one was pushing my luck.

And now it's on to dresses--polka-dot ones.

As My Old Roommate Would Say, "Bad Form."

So Mr. Isbell and I got into a domestic dispute Sunday morning, and in the middle of it I noticed that, instead of going to the public open space two blocks west, a neighbor woman had decided to play with her dog on our lawn--complete with a stack of Frisbees and the dog running into the flowerbed and planted garden.

I lost it:



And then of course I felt bad, because I was really mad about the argument that was going on and I could have told her to get lost in a nicer way. Poor lady had no idea what she was in for...

Friday Unrelated Information

1. I've been checking out Nerd Boyfriend, "a shopping guide and style blog for the fashionably nerdy male." I mostly like it for the old pictures. And I also like nerds. And Fasuto Coppi's sweater on today's post.

2. Here's an essay on the case for memorizing poems, which included this quote: “If one is delayed in a bus terminal, or sitting in a foxhole, it’s wonderful to have an inner anthology to say over, yet again, in one’s mind.” Except I don't think the foxhole argument will mean anything to the youth of today--not really making a case there, author.

3. It's the birthday of Isak Dineson, aka Karen Blixen, who wrote Out of Africa, the opening of which is the best opening of any book ever, in my opinion.

Toby's Latest Trick: Impeding Progress

He comes running when he hears me start to make the bed and promptly stretches out on it. He's also a fan of sitting on the laptop in the morning, although I think that's because he just likes the warmth from it:

Happy Birthday

...to Leonardo da Vinci, Bessie Smith, Emma Thompson, and my mom! Here is a song for her, with the big disclaimer that she is NOT 64. I just thought it was a good description of her life right now, what with the parts about gardening and going for a ride and having my dad around.



Unrelated: Yellow Submarine looks completely terrifying.

Tuesday Project Roundup: Easter Dress

So I made myself an Easter dress for the first time in about ten years. My mom used to make me fantastic ones when I was little, and later I'd go shop for something, but the only point of an Easter dress is wearing it on Easter, and the only place to wear something on Easter is church, and I decided about the same time I stopped getting new Easter dresses that the only part of Lutheranism I liked was Bach. But I digress.

This is impossible to photograph on a cloudy morning but it looks very nice on--it's navy dotted swiss over a plain navy lining, using the same pattern as last week.

And what's going on in knitting? Well, look who's helping my yellow sweater block:

"uuh, mama, this sweater is damp..."

If Only The Background Were Turquoise

If it were, I would buy this and put it on the wall next to the Bernina:

(The larger size is still for sale on 20x200.)

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Sorry I didn't post yesterday--the internet was down at the apartment and I was busy at work (!), talking to clients (!!) and being creative (!!!). (Seriously, I would have liked this job just for the paycheck. But it's actually really fun!)

2. Kottke.org linked to the origin of "steal my thunder" this week:
In 1704, playright John Dennis invented a new method of producing the sound of thunder during a play. Dennis' play was unsuccessful, but his thunder technique was soon borrowed by another production, leading Dennis to exclaim:

Damn them! They will not let my play run, but they steal my thunder.

3. Look, it's the alpaca Easter bunny!
My Easter plans include listening to Bach's St. Matthew Passion tonight. I have a friend who always listens to Parsifal on Good Friday for the "Good Friday Music" in it, but it's Bach for me.

Reading The Writer's Almanac Again

I got caught up on The Writer's Almanac site yesterday and saw this poem from last week, which suits the weather and the sort of watery, in-transition feelings from the last few months that are not quite dispersed yet:

Larry Smith, "In Early Spring"

Road catkins, russet and tan, let the
wind sweep over them as dusk
seeps in along the lake,
and I pass road puddles
swelling to ponds, mirroring
the sky's own silveriness.
At the railroad tracks seven geese
veer off and set down in a field
so that only their necks
speak for them, telling us all
to go on while they rest
by the barn. Today a man
asked me if I were depressed,
and I looked up and smiled.
No more than these geese or catkins
as light falls around them, no
more than those pine boughs
lifting in the wind—just so,
life goes on.

Tuesday Project Roundup: "You're Just Happier In A Dress"

My first week of work was notable for lots of friendliness and busyness--and for not knowing what the hell to wear every day. It's a little dressier than the the last place and the weather was not cooperating, so I tried the t-shirt and blazer combo for four days. But Friday I said to myself, "This is bunk, I'm wearing a dres," and Mr. Isbell said, "You're just happier in a dress. There's a sparkle in your eye when you wear one." And it's true.

So I finished a new one over the weekend and wore it yesterday and I was indeed happier. It was also a lot easier to get ready.

I used the fabric from Japan (finally), and this pattern, which looks to be from the'60s. I made the left version but without any sleeves, because the weather has to warm up someday. And I'm trying to have the right version with the neck ruffle finished for next week.

It's Monday

And sometimes Toby has a hard time getting up an hour earlier with me. He usually has to have a quick nap around 8:00, which he's doing here on the back of the couch in the sun.


Updated after morning internet reading to add: Iowa, you rock. I haven't been getting the paper daily or reading my news sites at work, so this was a happy surprise.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Did you know that you can watch all of the Carl Sagan Cosmos series online for free? I discovered it on Hulu while searching for episodes of The A-Team (also available online).

2. Did you know the actor who played the leader of the A-Team, "Hannibal" Smith, was George Peppard, aka the male lead in Breakfast at Tiffany's? I missed these things in 1985.

3. Behold, via Married to the Sea:

Not Appropriate For Client Meetings

I bought this shirt when it was on sale a few weeks ago and I really, really want to wear it today. That would probably be frowned on, though.

Feel Free To Start Any Time, Spring

Now that it's April, I can post the part from The Wasteland that everyone knows and uses to complain about the weather:

APRIL is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.