2004-12-28 - 3:20 p.m.
Corporate Christmas means gifts from people you've only spoken to on the phone. I didn't know this, but now I love it. Fruit baskets and chocolate and gift certificates and cookies. Some of them made there way all the way out to my apartment in Brooklyn. The thrill of seeing a large box parked on your doorstep...
Sitting at a desk all day, in front of a computer for hours, I am very aware of my brain turning to mush. So I try to read a book a day. That's not a boast or an outrageous claim; I'm seriously at a desk for 9 hours. Even if I wasn't a fast reader, these babies would be piling up. Anyhow, I don't recommend Tobias Wolff's Old School. To sum: yawn.
A couple of weeks ago, M and I went to the Phoenix concert. There was a moment of discomfort when I glanced up and saw a bit of the past, but even that didm't ruin an amazing show. Really energetic and better than the album. (Which I didn't believe was possible.) Sadly, we missed the Joseph Arthur concert that we had tix for, instead staying and keeping warm. 11 pm is far too late, Mr. Arthur, for a Thursday night. Some of us have to work.
We made our way through the entire first season of The O.C. in two weekends. Can any show possible be more synonymous with addictive? I can't even imagine having to watch these multiple plots play out over the course of several months with commercials interrupting them. Thank the lord for box sets.
This feels very much like a holiday update letter. Excuse the mundane. I'm just trying to sort out where the last two months have gone.
Mostly lots of music. Year end lists reveal albums and artists you've never been exposed to. My favorite: Johnny Boy, number 50 on Pitchfork Media's singles list.
Right now I'm trying to avoid all the chocolate lying around the office and wondering if cheese has anything to do with an allergic reaction that keeps popping up. Cheese seems innocuous, but oh, it isn't.
I'm off to revel in the gossip pages. (Gawker, anyone?)
~j
*The Concretes*Johnny Boy*Estelle*
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