tavie.com

Did you ever put something on your Amazon wish list so long ago that you don't remember why it was there in the first place?

I'm at my parents' this weekend, having stumbled here tipsily after last night's Department Dinner (Junior's in Times Square, inferior to the real Junior's, but the cheesecake still good) - and this morning they dragged me down to the diner and poured eggs and coffee into me. Sufficiently revived, I was suddenly reminded of my current lack of portable reading material. (The Stand, mentioned below, is twice the size of my purse, and I finished the Gregory Maguire book two days ago. Imagine my panic.)

So we went to the thrift store across the street. I adore pawing through musty piles of books in junk shops. It's one of life's purest pleasures for me. I am, you know, Fred Phillips' daughter (and partially raised by Byros.) Mostly what you find is crap, well worth being abandoned to a thrift shop, but sometimes you encounter something worthwhile.

Today I came across Little, Big by John Crowley. I have no idea who John Crowley is, but for some reason, the title struck a chord. Why was this book familiar to me? Was it on my Amazon wishlist? Why would that possibly be?

Well, it is on my wishlist. As best as I can recall, I encountered someone's recommendation of this book-- in person? on Usenet? somewhere else?-- and the recommendation was compelling enough for me to want to read it, so I put it on the wish list and then forgot about it, until stumbling across it today between battered copies of The Corrections and The Rules of Backgammon.

I'm excited and mystified. I wish I could remember why I had it on my wish list. If you're the one who recommended it, make yourself known. Meanwhile, I'll discover whether or not it was worthy of the spot.

Labels: amazon, dust, early alzheimer's, junk, must, novels, reading is funadmental

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:37 PM | shower me with attention

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Currently, my favorite thing on the internet is this fellow's recaps of the show that I call, simply, The Models.

He illustrates his reviews with little animated gifs that make me laugh until I hiccup.

It's the little things, Marv.

Labels: bitches

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:57 PM | shower me with attention

I was up in her room last weekend, clawing desperately through her books as I neared the end of my own current reading, and saw the huge, hardcover tome. My eyes lit up - I grabbed it - "Oooh! I've never read the unabridged version before!"

She stopped me with a warning, as serious as a fresh grave: "If you spill anything, if you get one coffee ring, if you leave it upside down, if you bend its spine, if you bend a single corner of a single page, I will kill you."

***

Just now, I reached over to turn out my bedside lamp and my night table fell over with a crash. Lamp, medication, sudoku, mechanical pencil, laptop - all fine.

Glass of water. 1990 hardcover Doubleday edition of The Stand: Complete and Uncut. It was the only thing that even got wet. Soaked up the water like a sponge. Already swollen to twice its side. It's the biggest thing I've ever seen. It's a bloated, wrinkled, sopping monster. I hadn't even cracked it open yet.

I am so, so dead.

Thank god for Amazon. A new copy - same edition - is already on its way.

I may still get my neck wrung, but at least I've taken the proper steps.

Labels: beware the ides, damp, horror stories, real-life nightmares, stephen king

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:12 AM | shower me with attention

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

I dreamed that I was roller skating down a New York City street and I rolled past a woman who grabbed my arm and I looked up and it was Catherine O’Hara.

“Hi!”

She pointed at my skates and then at her own feet, which sported black skates. Or were they purple? I think mine were pink.

”You’re Canadian!” I said. I pointed to my tattoo. “I love Canada!”

She had a woman with her, she said it was her sister.

The three of us skated down to Brooklyn and had pizza.

Labels: dreams

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:09 AM | shower me with attention

Monday, March 12, 2007

You see above
my one true love.

His name is Spike;
it's him I like.

Because he's reallyreallyreallyreallyreally super-cute, and I'm shallow that way.

Now leave us alone to cuddle, world.

Labels: m.y.o.beeswax

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:18 AM | shower me with attention

Sunday, March 11, 2007

OH MY GOD I NEED THIS SO BAD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!

Labels: alarm clocks, butle, butled, butler, butling, ecstasy, heaven, rapture, stephen fry

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:13 PM | shower me with attention