*linnea's pita email me bring it tell me where ya at? too much information? you decide. me: heh. feeling: running mileage this month: 109.2 3/01: 110 2/02: 95.5 1/02: 57.75 12/01: 101 11/01: 65.5 10/01: 77.2 10/13/01: 26.2: the hartford marathon; mission: accomplished 9/01: 169.5 8/01: 181 7/01: 155 6/01: 126 listening to a lot lately: wilco reading: negotiating with the dead by margaret atwood recently read: "don't let's go to the dogs tonight" by alexandra fuller book reviews: where i arbitrarily rate, rave, and rant about books i've recently read, including the one above stuff i kinda want: at amazon at cdnow coffee corner my feelings about coffees from around the city current fave: my own runners up: the bellydeli pick a bagel europa (specifically their cinnanut) decent: the coffee pot (at 49 & 9) oren’s so-so: new world tahl bagels (86 between 1&2) au bon pain dean & deluca crap: starbucks (regular – I go there only for “specialty” drinks) timothy’s pax (and they’re mean) stuff i've written for lifetime 9/11: how you can help basic elements of ice skating quiz chris bohjalian interview cosmetic surgery destination weddings diet do's & don'ts emmylou harris fall makeup fit & fabulous guinea pigs gay parents holiday gifts jeffrey nordling newish: joyce carol oates interview missing kids nine new ideas for new year's no ordinary baby synopsis pat benatar rescue worker jasmin aviles rescue worker lauren schwartz sheryl crow spa chefs virginia madsen women in the military and elsewhere bar reviews foreign service? myths about africa sleeping kids war room workplace polls entertainment trivia (5.16.01) running title poll (7.3.01) the archive index 2000 summer sept/oct nov/ dec 2001 jan/feb march april may june july august september october november december 2002 january february march current

what have i got to say today? Tuesday, April 30, 2002 6:18 p.m. there are TWO rainbows over manhattan right now! and i can see them from my desk! sometimes, man, this job is okay.... Friday, April 26, 2002 4:24 p.m. hbo is airing a documentary called "small town ecstasy" on sunday which looks interesting, if depressing. according to the hartford advocate, it tells the tale of a divorced, middle-aged dad who starts, essentially, emulating his 18-year-old druggie raver kid, and then okays and funds his 15-year-old daughter's plan for him and his three kids (ages 18, 15, and 13) to do ecstasy together one weekend. "Aren't we all gonna roll tonight?" asks dad. craig, the 18-year-old, decides it's not such a good idea, since his brother is only 13. Dad believes otherwise and goes ahead with the plan with his other two kids. Later he bemoans the fact that the full family wasn't able to bond as he would have liked: "I wanted to make it a family thing. All four of us, but Craig did not do it." no one should be surprised to learn that his kids' mother then found out and sued for full custody of her two underaged kids. this study about female pheromones had me cracking me up today. any women out there interested in sniffing someone else's breastfeeding pads four times a day? another wilco interview, this time with tweedy himself. on ken coomer's departure: "I really loved him. He's a great drummer and a great person, and I wish he was still my friend. I don't regret the decision at all, but I do wish that I had, had the chance to talk to him. It just didn't work out that way." aw. Thursday, April 25, 2002 3:12 p.m. nice interview with john stirratt of wilco about the new album, why they all speak so poorly of summerteeth, jay and ken's departures from the band, jay farrar's attitude and more. Tuesday, April 23, 2002 11:32 a.m. If you start with the very broad definition of terrorism being “the deliberate killing of noncombatants,” can an attack carried out by a militarized state be considered terrorism or no? “Morally, it does not matter whether the murderers of civilians are wearing uniforms or not,” says this interesting though depressing slate article by jim holt about the philosophy of the warmongering times we’re living in. but then there’s the doctrine of double effect – basically, that good intentions (minimizing losses on both sides, ending a conflict quicker, taking out the main evil person/group for the sake of the peaceful rest, etc.) should be taken into consideration. but it all sucks, either way. People still get killed unnecessarily. “The incidental victims of a strategic bomber are just as dead as the intended victims of a terror bomber; their surviving family members are no less grief-stricken.” Besides, the line is so blurred between good and evil actions and people. As is pointed out, “If you ask the terror bomber why he is killing civilians, he will say, ‘To win a just war.’ He might even say that he does not need the civilians actually to be dead, but only to be thought to be dead until the war is over to demoralize the other side.” But I don’t know if I really believe that that’s how people are thinking of themselves when they walk into a grocery store or restaurant and blow it and themselves up, or alternately, when they bulldoze houses down when people are still inside. But maybe they do; I've never met them. Anyway, the whole thing wraps up saying the debate is moot: “Deliberately killing noncombatants does not weaken an enemy militarily, precisely because they are noncombatants—children, the aged, and so forth.” And it all just seems even more pointless and wasteful. Does anyone else think it’s really funny that france has a hunting, fishing, nature, and traditions political party? with such odd affiliations making their way into a national election, it’s almost no wonder that the “racist, anti-Semitic, homophobic nasty piece-of-work" le pen was nominated, although that is friggin scary. Ah, the french. I can’t wait to see them in all their kooky glory in exactly 1 month! So saddam wrote a romantic novel that has been made into a play and is set to be performed. Is this not a pre-packaged SNL skit? i'll be on the look out this saturday. The street parking exchange: A possible solution to nyc’s parking problems? It’s not looking hopeful, though I give this guy all the encouragement in the world. So I think new yorkers are getting a little wimpy in their ways these days. Maybe it’s just that we’ve been spoiled this year by a lack of precipitation or something, but I actually witnessed people screaming because they were getting wet last night during that sudden rain storm. What is that? Most of these people wouldn’t scream if a mugger threatened them with bodily harm, but they scream at drops of water? Must be all those manolo blahniks getting wet…. Thursday, April 18, 2002 4:48 p.m. so apparently quitting is back in style. i'll have to keep that in mind.... also, chick singer vs. female musician. an interesting paradox, really. it can be tough to find respectable female artists, i have to say. why is it so much harder for female musicians than for males to be cool? i wish i could like ani but her friggin nonsense doesn't appeal to me. all that giggling and annoying story-telling, like she's just the coolest thing ever, bugs me. it sucks because i respect how much she's done on her own. i just can't help it, though. the TVs in our office are just depressing today, between their flashes of the plane crashing into that building in milan and images of the search for survivors at the jenin refugee camp. i don't know -- is it a "camp of terror" or just a home of innocent folks? i did find the perspective of adam shapiro, a brooklyn jew helping palestinians, interesting. Monday, April 15, 2002 6:03 p.m. Spring rocks. Today, in the park, the trees are so green and all the cherry blossoms have bloomed and are crazy pink and white and blowing all over the place. I wish it could stay this way, that on-the-verge-of-full-blown-spring, when the grass is so green it’s almost florescent, if dark green could be florescent. Plus, all my favorite flowers are out now – daffodils, lilies of the valley, tulips – and they’re all gonna be dead soon. But right now they make me so happy. I’ve noticed that a lot of people are giving up or thinking about giving up their weblogs these days. It’s only natural, I guess, given the length of time that the trend has been in existence, how it’s novelty has been lost to some degree, and how it’s been getting some people in trouble here and there. It’s tough, I have to admit, to get some kind of grip on how you’re going to be presenting yourself in this public space, as well as why you’re doing it. I used to feel pressure to keep the pita up, to entertain, to find good things to link to and write about and all that, and I guess I still do on occasion. and when I get shitty, stupid reactions or comments or web gossipers annoying me, I just feel like calling it quits – who needs the bullshit of an un-community? Lately, though, I’ve been trying to have a more productive and healthy relationship with my pita. I’m letting myself neglect it when I feel like it, give it all this attention when I do, generally just add stuff when I feel inspired. I try to make myself remember that I’m not doing it for anything other than creative inspiration and sanity (the writing, it helps), and if gets me feeling more insane than not, then I should step away for a while. But then I have to ask myself why it is that I feel compelled to keep a public writing space. I don’t know, but it’s fun for now. Sometimes, anyway. Today marks a sad anniversary in my life. 10 years ago one of my close friends shot and killed himself. Ryan Michael Daniels was just one month and one week over 15 years old. It was a Wednesday. We had just competed in a track meet that afternoon. We had a conversation as we criss-crossed the football field. I had just finished the 100 hurdles and was out of breath but excited: I had won – first place and only a freshman. The last words I heard out of his mouth were of congratulations but also of disappointment: he’d been unhappy with his performance in the 110 meter hurdles. I told him not to worry about it, that he’d do better the next time, that it was just one race. Later, as I was leaving the school, I saw him playing basketball with another friend; we said goodbye. He looked happy enough. I guess that night he got into an argument with his dad or something, but I’m not sure if that’s the real story. Rumors had it that his dad then went to the gym, only to return to find ryan dead on the floor of his den, a bullet to the roof of his mouth, right into his brain. It’s probably needless to say that this event was one of the more defining of my life. It’s a marker, of a time before and after, but also of time that has elapsed. “Has it really been that long since…?” Every year I can’t help but reflect on how far I’ve come since 15 and how his memory remains stuck at that age and with those worries and obsessions and surroundings. It’s impossible not to wonder what he’d be doing, where he’d be, how happy he’d be, how much his life would have changed, how much heartbreak, victory, happiness and disappointment, both clichéd and original, he would have experienced in these years since. It makes me very sad to think about all that his family has been cheated of in these 10 years and in the many years to come. It makes me very angry to think how much he’s missed out on – how things got a lot fucking better after freshman year, after high school, after college, after yesterday – and how much those who knew him and those who would have known him would have learned with him in our lives. But mostly I just feel that I need to be living my life beyond how I already am so that I stretch it to it utmost limits of experience and sensation and worthiness just to make up for his life being stunted, for all that he never got to do. Here's to ryan. Monday, April 8, 2002 5:30 p.m. so what do you do when you're bored? you change the color of your pita.... (it's spring.) 2:23 p.m. Pretty cool media news: oprah’s O magazine to be published in South Africa. I want a copy. I love the quebecois, I really do. And I love this guy’s insistence on finding samuel de champlain’s bones buried beneath quebec city. I think I may have stood on that precise spot…. I’m considering heading back there in august to participate in the quebec city half-marathon. I’m sure they’d throw a great party. Plus, how fun would it be to have people shouting “allez! allez!” at you – in all seriousness – while you run? 10:22 a.m. what do you do when you get to work and you're immediately bored? the answer...to come. Thursday, April 4, 2002 03:17 p.m. so slate is good today: vogue gets slammed and slammed hard, as it should, for claiming to be so open-minded to size in their "shape" issue. puhlease. i'm also loving gay foods. "Think of those elaborate spreads of ham and pineapple—queer, queer, queer—and all the sugary excesses of Southern picnic cooking, quivering in Jell-O molds." also the piece on female suicide bombers, an issue that has me deep in thought these days: "Women and children are now killing women and children." and for those of you still in denial about nyc's drought emergency, read it and weep. but no one can seem to tell me what will happen if we don't conserve. what will we do? what's the solution to the emergency other than just don't use as much? Tuesday, April 2, 2002 4:14 p.m. well, this doesn't sound so pro-israel to me. could it really be from the times??? impossible. this picture is so sad. it makes me want to adopt a puppy today. there's a little boston terrier right there in the barrel right in the middle! yes, that's what it is, that's why i wasn't sure if i liked it or not at first. alexandra fuller's book is very much like mary karr's the liar's club, a book i didn't like a whole lot. but fuller's comes around, it grounds itself, she kind of shakes off that lack of perspective as she grows up and awakens to her reality as odd. i appreciate that. but, wow, she's moving back to africa. "She also said she wanted her children to grow up far from fast food and teenage television and the all-consuming American desire to buy stuff." good for her. i'm so sick of people bitching about women's basketball. it was a great final four tournament, with much more interesting play, personalities, and stories than the friggin men's. and no, i don't care that it's just me and the silver-haired and the little kids watching.

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