more stars than in the heavens

not in our stars, but in ourselves

whirlwind roundup

Oh, hi!  Remember me?  I used to update this thing much more frequently, and with much more content.  I’ll be able to return to that soon, I promise.

1) The reason for the sporadic posting is, as mentioned, the big move.  It’s all done, finally!  After some frantic packing this past weekend (you should only ever do all your packing at the last possible minute, obviously), my boyfriend and I moved all our worldly possessions from our respective former homes into our new home together.  Monday was a very, very, VERY long day – hot and sweaty, too – but we did it, all by ourselves.  And now, we have a lovely new apartment in a gorgeous old building, with views of the Charles River and everything.  Not bad.  Yesterday and Tuesday, we’ve been settling in.  We have a sofa, we have internet, we have cable, and we have a very fancy bar cart.  We’re pretty happy.  It will be a relief to finish unpacking, and to feel like we’re settled in comfortably – but the hardest part is over.  Phew.

2) We weren’t able to watch on Sunday (or Monday, or Tuesday), but we’ve started Show Me a Hero.  I am glad to be alive at the same time as David Simon.  I am incredibly stressed out to be alive at the same time as Oscar Isaac when our mutually alive status does not involve us making out and touching each other.  UGH.

3) I am now the proud owner of not one, but TWO Isaiah Whitlock, Jr. Talking Bobbleheads.  You’re right to be jealous.  They both live in my office for now, but I may bring one home soon.  Keep it as a wake-up call for my boyfriend, you know?

Me: Baby, it’s noon.
Him: [indistinct grumbles]
Isaiah Whitlock, Jr.: Sheeeeeeeeeit!
Him: [deep sigh]

That’s right: it’s true love.  Many blissful Saturday mornings await, I can tell.

4) As far as news goes: two knucklescrapers beat the shit out of a homeless man at an MBTA stop, citing Trump as their inspiration.  Trump, for his part, didn’t apologize or condemn the brutality; he just said his fans are very “passionate.” Quoth Nabokov: wherefore this jest in majesty, this ass in passion?  Anyway.  Can you imagine if all the worthless people supporting Trump were forced to live in a (separate) country where he was actually president?  Everyone would get what they deserve: they would get a boob and an egomaniac who’s a demonstrable fraud, and he would get a country full of astonishingly dumb old white people who do nothing but share Minion memes and blatantly fictitious posts from sources (inasmuch as a toilet can be a source) like “Right Wing News” on Facebook.  The country would be a U.N. disaster zone within a month.

5) If any fitness fanatics read this, could you explain to me the specific benefits and drawbacks of trap bar deadlifts?  I’ve started working them into my gym routine recently, and I like them much more than standard deadlifts…which makes me wonder if I’m perhaps leading myself astray.  Are they inferior in any way?  Should I keep doing both?  Should I do only one?  Help me, meatheads.

6) Delicious piece from The Guardian about the joys of truly awful movies: “A bad film that no one ever sees is like a beautiful sunset wasted on the blind, a gorgeous symphony wasted on the deaf, a fabulous meal wasted on someone who just joined Weight Watchers. A bad film is rare, precious and beautiful. But mostly bad.” Or, as John Waters put it:


7) If Hill Dawg wins the Democratic Primary, I guess I’ll have to vote for her, but I hope she starts doing lots of things much better.  Couldn’t Beyoncé run?  Please?  She’ll be 35 next year!  She’s the right age, and she’s already queen of the universe.  Why not give her the United States as well?


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This entry was posted on August 20, 2015 by and tagged , , , , .
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