i'm still having the sort of seasonal trouble sleeping that doesn't afford me enough clarity to read as i have through every other wee hour of unexpected wakefulness in my life. i appear to be able to shop just fine, though, which isn't that unfortunate–i'm acquiring small-ticket stuff, pretty much–but it's weird. a few weeks ago i acquired a high-concept "sports bra" that addresses breasts like those layered ship's-sail-lookin' patio shades that don't shield much of anything (it would have been perfect for a pride parade, or a memphis group mermaid getup in coney island). earlier this week it was a set of tiny spring-mounted lips for kissing bugs without hurting them; last night / this morning it was a COME BACK SPACEMAN asteroid city tee. i have been thinking about asteroid city a lot since we saw it a few weeks ago–i think it's my favorite wes anderson movie, though one could argue that one's first has to be one's favorite (if one likes wes anderson movies as a general proposition, that is, and i respect that plenty don't) because it's just so surprising and delightful to go where he finds himself. i was going to say "to his dimension," but that could be the one scrawny cup of coffee in me talking. anyway, this one has a gorgeous melancholy-in-isolation that really got under my skin; there are plenty of explicitly sad things there, like tom hanks's characters interactions with his dead daughter's widower, but there are more delicate ones like the way the precocious children look at the sky, or the stop-motion alien looks at humans, or the way the humans look back at him. it felt even more elegiac to me than the french dispatch did, and that was all about my actual world! (i'm not the next william shawn or anything, but you know what i mean.)
one of my assigning editors just got swept up in the latest round of layoffs at her ever-more-merger-happy parent company, and i met her, a fellow media casualty, and one of her other regular freelancers for lunch this week. i'd known she'd be in new york and told her to ping me if she had a moment so i could buy her a drink, but i didn't see her middle-of-the-night text until the next morning, so i barely had time to worry about whether or not my human suit was on straight before i headed up to little spain. it was legitimately lovely to see her and meet the other two; since i don't network and haven't been on a press trip since before the pandemic, it's been a long time since i've interacted with people who've played our particular bullshit game of musical chairs. as someone who's been sitting on her own haunches more or less contentedly for nearly a decade now, i actually felt like i had a bit of zen to offer, though i think all of them would rather find another full-time salaried gig than, say, ping-pong between stressful underpaid highbrow vanity gigs and the bread-and-butter-offered-to-me stuff i've started calling, with an unfortunate case of nominative determinism, "problem sets." i talked way too much and suspect they all think i'm a blowhard, but maybe they had a good time also and i should just be more aggressive in my bedtime melatonin explorations?
i broke my own rule of not engaging famous people i encounter in person when i saw julio torres on the subway the other day. he debarked and switched trains at the same place i did, so i had a few minutes to contemplate the back of his head and think about greetings that wouldn't be an imposition. i settled on "we don't know each other, i just wanted to tell you i think you're brilliant and i'm forgetting her name because i'm nervous but your nugget is really elegant." he smiled and thank me and said he'd tell her, and i excused myself and dove into a westbound L train across the platform. it was okay!
it looks like i actually do have a press trip coming up at long last; i was invited to bring a guest (provided i covered their airfare) on a comparatively-small-boat expedition up around eastern canada. i told myself i wouldn't cruise again after the press trip joe and i took years ago–there's just no way to justify that environmental impact, and our personal guide in akureyri when we were in iceland a few months ago told us in no uncertain terms that big ships were smothering his country's ports–but i decided i think there are things for me to report on here, and that if cruising is to continue to happen, it's got to happen at this scale (that is, boats a fraction of the size of ye olde floating megaresorts, with sustainable features and meaningful partnerships with scientists and conservationists). we haven't officially booked yet, but it's in the water.
Showing posts with label subway. Show all posts
Showing posts with label subway. Show all posts
12.16.22ii [on the F and L trains]
[a thing i'm trying. is carrying a journal on the subway the new longhand blogging? we'll see.]
i haven't seen footprints on the ceiling of a subway car in years, so i guess showtime and/or demonic possession is out of vogue. i haven't started wearing a mask again yet. do i really believe i'm not endangering anyone or have i lived long enough to become the villain? i was sure of the latter when i heard pixies' "gigantic" while returning a lamé-detailed blouse at the fifth avenue j.crew a week ago.
i read an excellent poem this morning (molly brodak's "in the morning, before anything bad happens") that i found both moving and inaccurate. brodak wrote of birds on the wing that couldn't believe their luck, but in all my years of wildlife rehab support at the bird hospital i never saw the birds we released (or any birds) look fortunate in the air. they looked focused. birds i've seen look like they can't believe their luck when they're swimming, even if they're sinking because they aren't yet waterproof.
when i dream of flying i don't feel fortunate, either. i feel like concentration is just barely keeping me aloft.
delibird, the seasonal pokemon, started spawning in the city this week. it took me a long time to realize its name referenced gifting and not bodegas; if i catch a shiny one i'll name it bodegavian anyway.
i haven't seen footprints on the ceiling of a subway car in years, so i guess showtime and/or demonic possession is out of vogue. i haven't started wearing a mask again yet. do i really believe i'm not endangering anyone or have i lived long enough to become the villain? i was sure of the latter when i heard pixies' "gigantic" while returning a lamé-detailed blouse at the fifth avenue j.crew a week ago.
i read an excellent poem this morning (molly brodak's "in the morning, before anything bad happens") that i found both moving and inaccurate. brodak wrote of birds on the wing that couldn't believe their luck, but in all my years of wildlife rehab support at the bird hospital i never saw the birds we released (or any birds) look fortunate in the air. they looked focused. birds i've seen look like they can't believe their luck when they're swimming, even if they're sinking because they aren't yet waterproof.
when i dream of flying i don't feel fortunate, either. i feel like concentration is just barely keeping me aloft.
delibird, the seasonal pokemon, started spawning in the city this week. it took me a long time to realize its name referenced gifting and not bodegas; if i catch a shiny one i'll name it bodegavian anyway.
04.04.14
the dirty dozen {mystery train,* round VI}
how times change! i worried in the fifth installment of this guess-who's-reading-what series that the male reader was going extinct; in 2014 he is all up in my trains, and he is spending a lot of time on personal care (male reader all up in my trains, i salute you). he's still wildly outnumbered by the commuters playing candy crush on their smartphones, of course, but he's there, he's earnest, and at some point he'll make it to the second page of the pale king (sweet, bearded thirteenth reader who just missed my count this time, i salute you as well).
as in previous posts, i've linked the title of each book to descriptions and cover images, mostly from powell's.** when a book and its reader are paired correctly, i'll update the lists; if you need hints, i'll compose haiku on request. who's the urban farmer? what do the people in headphones play as they read? where were the schoolchildren headed? is all of this facial hair here to stay? if amazon were a buffy-the-vampire-slayer-universe monster of the week, what sort of monster would it be? i await your responses!
{the readers}
01F, late 20s, long, straight brown hair under bumpy knitted cream beanie, black knee-length puffer with fur-edged hood, double gold ring on left middle finger, thick solid gold ring on right middle finger, short black nails, black tights, high-heeled buckled brown booties, black prada bucket bag in lap, B train [sharp objects, gillian flynn - anon comes to life like a filmic killer]
02 M, late 30s, smooth tan knit skullcap pulled low on forehead, heavy olive green hooded puffer over popped black denim collar and paisley silk scarf, slim black trousers, black socks, cap-toe black oxfords, B train
03 M, late 20s, floppy dark hair, trimmed beard, black pea coat with copious pockets over green hoodie, thick brown scarf, blue topo designs backpack bristling with pens worn on both shoulders, cuffed raw denim jeans, brown moccasins, D train
04 F, 20s, wavy black pixie cut with purple ombre bangs, high silver ear cuffs, blue puffer with white-fur-trimmed hood and antarctica patch, rust scarf, black slacks, two-tone brown leather oxfords, raw leather messenger bag, pen in hand, F train
05F, late teens, two-tone rectangular glasses, pink-streaked light brown hair in folded bun, flowered scarf, brown coat with white polka dots fading into pink roses, dark jeans, high-heeled brown leather boots, B train [the double helix, james d. watson - anon, TCB w/r/t DNA]
06 M, early 30s, teal rectangular glasses, black mustache and goatee, back-of-the-head black neoprene earmuffs, green army jacket, dark jeans, white pumas, F train
07 M, 20s, shiny black oversized headphones, floppy brown bangs, short beard, blue and rust plaid shirt buttoned over black tee, open khaki jacket, slim grey jeans, orange and blue lace-up vans, padded black backpack between legs, B train
08M, late 60s, short, wild white hair, rectangular rimless glasses worn low on nose, open black puffer coat, sunglasses tucked into neck of black tee, black messenger bag around neck, legs splayed, black basketball shoes, D train [july 1914: countdown to war, sean mcmeekin - jacob spies the urban soldier]
09M, about 8, short ash brown hair with magnificent cowlick, yellow P.S. 10 tee, cargo pants, blue-, orange-, and yellow-shark-patterned backpack with pikachu keychain resting on feet, F train [flat stanley, jeff brown - i imagine valya's boys have a copy as well]
10F, about 8, dark brown hair in braided ponytail with glittery silver rubber band, black pea coat and magenta cardigan over yellow P.S. 10 tee, light blue jeggings, black-and-grey paisley backpack between knees, F train [the field day from the black lagoon, mike thaler - per lisa, who's known me since we were both about that tall]
11M, late 20s, long brown hair in high folded bun, mustache and narrow goatee, black collarless leather jacket zipped to chin, red chinos, white ankle socks, red slip-on vans, A train [delirious new york: a retroactive manifesto for manhattan, rem koolhaas - anon IDs the russian karim rashid]
12M, late 20s, black headphones over pomaded hair, mustache waxed into curls, kelly green hooded down coat over tails-out striped oxford shirt, black slacks, maroon canvas sneakers, black backpack, holding stainless black antelope thermos, B train [ham on rye, charles bukowski - anon, greasespotting]
{the books}
ham on rye, charles bukowski
the administration of fear, paul virilio
delirious new york: a retroactive manifesto for manhattan, rem koolhaas
dune, frank herbert
flat stanley, jeff brown
flu: the story of the great influenza pandemic of 1918 and the search for the virus that caused it, gina kolata
sharp objects, gillian flynn
july 1914: countdown to war, sean mcmeekin
greenhorns: 50 dispatches from the new farmers' movement, zoe ida bradbury
salt sugar fat: how the food giants hooked us, michael moss
the field day from the black lagoon, mike thaler
the double helix, james d. watson
*tip of the hat, as always, to coverspy.
**we'll be making a pilgrimage to the pearl district mothership this july, and i am already weeks into hemming and hawing over which pair of underwear to throw at the rare books section.
how times change! i worried in the fifth installment of this guess-who's-reading-what series that the male reader was going extinct; in 2014 he is all up in my trains, and he is spending a lot of time on personal care (male reader all up in my trains, i salute you). he's still wildly outnumbered by the commuters playing candy crush on their smartphones, of course, but he's there, he's earnest, and at some point he'll make it to the second page of the pale king (sweet, bearded thirteenth reader who just missed my count this time, i salute you as well).
as in previous posts, i've linked the title of each book to descriptions and cover images, mostly from powell's.** when a book and its reader are paired correctly, i'll update the lists; if you need hints, i'll compose haiku on request. who's the urban farmer? what do the people in headphones play as they read? where were the schoolchildren headed? is all of this facial hair here to stay? if amazon were a buffy-the-vampire-slayer-universe monster of the week, what sort of monster would it be? i await your responses!
{the readers}
01
02 M, late 30s, smooth tan knit skullcap pulled low on forehead, heavy olive green hooded puffer over popped black denim collar and paisley silk scarf, slim black trousers, black socks, cap-toe black oxfords, B train
03 M, late 20s, floppy dark hair, trimmed beard, black pea coat with copious pockets over green hoodie, thick brown scarf, blue topo designs backpack bristling with pens worn on both shoulders, cuffed raw denim jeans, brown moccasins, D train
04 F, 20s, wavy black pixie cut with purple ombre bangs, high silver ear cuffs, blue puffer with white-fur-trimmed hood and antarctica patch, rust scarf, black slacks, two-tone brown leather oxfords, raw leather messenger bag, pen in hand, F train
05
06 M, early 30s, teal rectangular glasses, black mustache and goatee, back-of-the-head black neoprene earmuffs, green army jacket, dark jeans, white pumas, F train
07 M, 20s, shiny black oversized headphones, floppy brown bangs, short beard, blue and rust plaid shirt buttoned over black tee, open khaki jacket, slim grey jeans, orange and blue lace-up vans, padded black backpack between legs, B train
08
09
10
11
12
{the books}
the administration of fear, paul virilio
dune, frank herbert
greenhorns: 50 dispatches from the new farmers' movement, zoe ida bradbury
salt sugar fat: how the food giants hooked us, michael moss
*tip of the hat, as always, to coverspy.
**we'll be making a pilgrimage to the pearl district mothership this july, and i am already weeks into hemming and hawing over which pair of underwear to throw at the rare books section.
03.07.14
conversations on the D train
1: so you stopped dating him because he played minecraft.
2: yeah.
1: did he play minecraft on the date?
2: no, he just...played minecraft.
1: so if i grow up i won't be able to date anyone.
2: well, you won't be able to date me.
1: i don't want to date you! you're -
2: careful!
1: - twenty-seven -
2: okay, that's alright.
1: - and i'm twelve. and on weekends you're amanda poupon.
3: amanda poupon?
2: it's my drag name.
1: do you throw mustard at people?
1: so you stopped dating him because he played minecraft.
2: yeah.
1: did he play minecraft on the date?
2: no, he just...played minecraft.
1: so if i grow up i won't be able to date anyone.
2: well, you won't be able to date me.
1: i don't want to date you! you're -
2: careful!
1: - twenty-seven -
2: okay, that's alright.
1: - and i'm twelve. and on weekends you're amanda poupon.
3: amanda poupon?
2: it's my drag name.
1: do you throw mustard at people?
02.28.14
i'm half a subway commute, maybe fifteen minutes, into roger angell's "this old man" (a new yorker piece from a few weeks ago on life at 93). it's already the best thing i've read this year, what peter hay might have called "a charm against the jackals."
I’ve endured a few knocks but missed worse. I know how lucky I am, and secretly tap wood, greet the day, and grab a sneaky pleasure from my survival at long odds. The pains and insults are bearable. My conversation may be full of holes and pauses, but I’ve learned to dispatch a private Apache scout ahead into the next sentence, the one coming up, to see if there are any vacant names or verbs in the landscape up there. If he sends back a warning, I’ll pause meaningfully, duh, until something else comes to mind.i'm scaling back on crying at my desk on my lunch break and won't unpack why angell undoes me, but i do suggest clasping his essay to you before going underground.
On the other hand, I’ve not yet forgotten Keats or Dick Cheney or what’s waiting for me at the dry cleaner’s today. As of right now, I’m not Christopher Hitchens or Tony Judt or Nora Ephron; I’m not dead and not yet mindless in a reliable upstate facility. Decline and disaster impend, but my thoughts don’t linger there. It shouldn’t surprise me if at this time next week I’m surrounded by family, gathered on short notice—they’re sad and shocked but also a little pissed off to be here—to help decide, after what’s happened, what’s to be done with me now. It must be this hovering knowledge, that two-ton safe swaying on a frayed rope just over my head, that makes everyone so glad to see me again. “How great you’re looking! Wow, tell me your secret!” they kindly cry when they happen upon me crossing the street or exiting a dinghy or departing an X-ray room, while the little balloon over their heads reads, “Holy shit—he’s still vertical!”
Let’s move on. A smooth fox terrier of ours named Harry was full of surprises. Wildly sociable, like others of his breed, he grew a fraction more reserved in maturity, and learned to cultivate a separate wagging acquaintance with each fresh visitor or old pal he came upon in the living room. If friends had come for dinner, he’d arise from an evening nap and leisurely tour the table in imitation of a three-star headwaiter: Everything O.K. here? Is there anything we could bring you? How was the crème brûlée? Terriers aren’t water dogs, but Harry enjoyed kayaking in Maine, sitting like a figurehead between my knees for an hour or more and scoping out the passing cormorant or yachtsman. Back in the city, he established his personality and dashing good looks on the neighborhood to the extent that a local artist executed a striking head-on portrait in pointillist oils, based on a snapshot of him she’d sneaked in Central Park. Harry took his leave (another surprise) on a June afternoon three years ago, a few days after his eighth birthday. Alone in our fifth-floor apartment, as was usual during working hours, he became unhinged by a noisy thunderstorm and went out a front window left a quarter open on a muggy day. I knew him well and could summon up his feelings during the brief moments of that leap: the welcome coolness of rain on his muzzle and shoulders, the excitement of air and space around his outstretched body.
06.07.13
the dirty dozen {mystery train,* round V}
it's been nearly a year and a half since i last asked you to guess what folks on the new york city subway are reading based on what i tell you of their fripperies, and that makes me sad; there are few things i like as well as sweeping generalizations based on clothing and books. the world has changed since some gal on the B train abandoned her paul auster for an oriental trading company catalog and the marriage plot probably disappointed a male backup dancer on a different B train: hilary mantel won the booker prize again, michelle williams announced she was growing out her pixie cut, natasha trethewey became our poet laureate, and visible bras became socially acceptable. it's time to reconsider the mystery train.
who's giving foxy knoxy her day in court? should i, in turn, give one to hemingway?** how would one benefit from a zipper which opened across but not around one's knee? is the male reader going extinct? how does the way we talk change the way we work? book titles are linked to descriptions and cover images, if additional research is your bag. if you correctly pair a book with its reader, i'll update the lists; if you understand the bra thing, that makes one of us. guess early, guess often, and good luck!
{the peeps}
01F, early 20s, bobbed hair, round tortoiseshell glasses, beauty mark, grey cowl-neck sweater, black wool coat with pearly purple buttons, little brown satchel worn over left shoulder and right hip, black-and-white knee-length tweed skirt, short black lace-up boots with black socks, M train [the catcher in the rye, j.d. salinger - MDF spots a twitchy lady]
02 F, late 30s, red polarfleece hat, nordic blonde hair, moss-colored floral scarf, black quilted barn coat, long grey sweater, dark jeans, brown pebbled leather slip-ons with orthopedic soles, black hobo bag with gold zippers, pregnant, B train
03F, 20s, forest green flapper hat with brown leather band pulled low over brow, ivory knitted scarf pulled up over mouth, black and white chevron tweed coat, red right sleeve, crossed legs with royal blue tights, black loafers with white tongues, M train [a moveable feast, ernest hemingway - anon pegs a farewell to awesome]
04 M, late 20s, shaved head, heavy stubble (proto-beard?), blue-gray striped oxford rolled up to the elbows and worn open over a white tee, loose blue boot-cut jeans, extremely clean black hiking boots, B train
05M, late 60s, gray bottlebrush moustache, gold-rimmed readers worn low on nose, khaki baseball cap with "new york" in white embroidered script, metal cane and black messenger bag between knees, dunkin donuts cup at feet, blue plaid shirt, black slacks, brown leather slip-ons, F train [lords of the north, bernard cornwell - MDF's second victim]
06 F, early 20s, long brown hair tucked behind ears, beauty mark under right eye, nails bitten to the quick, grey heather tank, shrunken khaki band jacket, mint and navy blue keds, black skinny jeans, multicolored tote bag at feet, F train
07 F, early 20s, white-blonde hair in high, tight ponytail, grey cocoon cardigan over black tank, marigold-yellow nails, blue skinny jeans, black loafers, cover bent behind book, flipping back and forth between pages, B train
08 F, late 20s, wild streaky ringlets, black button-down with white polka dots, eight multicolored friendship bracelets, happy face with dimple in black marker on back of right hand, pegged patchwork jeans, black platform supergas, mustard-colored jansport on both shoulders, F train
09 F, early 20s, high black folded-over bun, sheer white lace top under small black cardigan, black skinny jeans, louis vuitton damier print tote, black watch plaid wellingtons, D train
10F, early 20s, glossy brown hair in kerchief headband, thin gold chain with small medallion, oversized camo-print jacket over loose white button-down, black skinny jeans, cracked tan leather crossbody bag, black tasseled loafers, coffee in right hand, F train [victoria, knut hamsun - MDF makes the ID]
11 F, late 40s, heavy, square-framed black glasses, wavy hair swept back with wide band, big black cardigan over rumpled blue and white shirt, black slacks with heavy silver zipper across left knee, huge spring-green bag in lap, black airwalk sneakers with tan laces, white plastic shopping bag hooked over left wrist, five silver rings, F train
12 F, 30s, shoulder-length, wavy brown hair, cornflower blue long-sleeved spandex top, dark grey yoga pants, black windbreaker, black-and-white pumas, tall fuchsia umbrella between knees, victoria's secret shopping bag at feet, large black leather purse with silver hardware in lap, coffee in right hand, B train
{the books}
la vérité sur l'affaire harry quebert, joël dicker
waiting to be heard, amanda knox
lords of the north, bernard cornwell
the catcher in the rye, j.d. salinger
victoria, knut hamsun
how the way we talk can change the way we work, kegan lahey
a storm of swords, george r.r. martin
the river why, david james duncan
robopocalypse, daniel h. wilson
en el tiempo de las mariposas, julia alvarez
a light to the gentiles: reflections on the gospel of luke, william c. mills
a moveable feast, ernest hemingway
*tip of the hat, as always, to coverspy.
**i know i ask every year or two. reader, that's how hard it is.
it's been nearly a year and a half since i last asked you to guess what folks on the new york city subway are reading based on what i tell you of their fripperies, and that makes me sad; there are few things i like as well as sweeping generalizations based on clothing and books. the world has changed since some gal on the B train abandoned her paul auster for an oriental trading company catalog and the marriage plot probably disappointed a male backup dancer on a different B train: hilary mantel won the booker prize again, michelle williams announced she was growing out her pixie cut, natasha trethewey became our poet laureate, and visible bras became socially acceptable. it's time to reconsider the mystery train.
who's giving foxy knoxy her day in court? should i, in turn, give one to hemingway?** how would one benefit from a zipper which opened across but not around one's knee? is the male reader going extinct? how does the way we talk change the way we work? book titles are linked to descriptions and cover images, if additional research is your bag. if you correctly pair a book with its reader, i'll update the lists; if you understand the bra thing, that makes one of us. guess early, guess often, and good luck!
{the peeps}
01
02 F, late 30s, red polarfleece hat, nordic blonde hair, moss-colored floral scarf, black quilted barn coat, long grey sweater, dark jeans, brown pebbled leather slip-ons with orthopedic soles, black hobo bag with gold zippers, pregnant, B train
03
04 M, late 20s, shaved head, heavy stubble (proto-beard?), blue-gray striped oxford rolled up to the elbows and worn open over a white tee, loose blue boot-cut jeans, extremely clean black hiking boots, B train
05
06 F, early 20s, long brown hair tucked behind ears, beauty mark under right eye, nails bitten to the quick, grey heather tank, shrunken khaki band jacket, mint and navy blue keds, black skinny jeans, multicolored tote bag at feet, F train
07 F, early 20s, white-blonde hair in high, tight ponytail, grey cocoon cardigan over black tank, marigold-yellow nails, blue skinny jeans, black loafers, cover bent behind book, flipping back and forth between pages, B train
08 F, late 20s, wild streaky ringlets, black button-down with white polka dots, eight multicolored friendship bracelets, happy face with dimple in black marker on back of right hand, pegged patchwork jeans, black platform supergas, mustard-colored jansport on both shoulders, F train
09 F, early 20s, high black folded-over bun, sheer white lace top under small black cardigan, black skinny jeans, louis vuitton damier print tote, black watch plaid wellingtons, D train
10
11 F, late 40s, heavy, square-framed black glasses, wavy hair swept back with wide band, big black cardigan over rumpled blue and white shirt, black slacks with heavy silver zipper across left knee, huge spring-green bag in lap, black airwalk sneakers with tan laces, white plastic shopping bag hooked over left wrist, five silver rings, F train
12 F, 30s, shoulder-length, wavy brown hair, cornflower blue long-sleeved spandex top, dark grey yoga pants, black windbreaker, black-and-white pumas, tall fuchsia umbrella between knees, victoria's secret shopping bag at feet, large black leather purse with silver hardware in lap, coffee in right hand, B train
{the books}
la vérité sur l'affaire harry quebert, joël dicker
waiting to be heard, amanda knox
how the way we talk can change the way we work, kegan lahey
a storm of swords, george r.r. martin
the river why, david james duncan
robopocalypse, daniel h. wilson
en el tiempo de las mariposas, julia alvarez
a light to the gentiles: reflections on the gospel of luke, william c. mills
*tip of the hat, as always, to coverspy.
**i know i ask every year or two. reader, that's how hard it is.
04.26.12: the dirty dozen {twelve people you will meet via the film festival volunteer crew}
01 the proud mother of a girl starring in one of the documentaries
02 the substitute teacher from queens who applies hand sanitizer to the bottom of her purse
03 the actress who talks the concessions staff into giving her six bags of popcorn
04 the twenty-year-old harmony korine aficionado
05 the sales rep training for his first ironman who scorns beer in green bottles
06 the tentative foreigner who's signed up for every shift in hopes of getting an unpaid internship
07 the film critic who relishes the electronic ticket-scanning process ("i'm getting screened! it's pretty hot!")
08 the music-magazine production assistant who loves thousand-year eggs
09 the middle-aged englishman who refuses comp tickets because he doesn't like movies
10-12 the trio of winsome undergrads who eat dinner three times each night*
it was half past eleven when i crossed houston on the way home from my last shift in the village last night. my feet were busted from four hours of pacing around a basement theater, but i was glad to be outside and moving; i like being in the mix when the lower east side wakes up on a weeknight. the folks in the mostly-empty bars you pass are locals, no one's in a hurry to be anywhere, and there's time and room to peer down alleys and get lost in window displays.
i volunteered for the screenings crew because i wanted to carry film. they needed some people to move reels from theater to theater, they said, some people who could handle twenty-five pounds or so. why, sure!** i've never touched film, but i feel strongly about it, and i figured it was about time. i learned (too late!) that the transporters are expected to have cars, so i still haven't touched film; i spent each of my three shifts scanning tickets and badges, handing out and taking in audience ballots, pointing out bathrooms, and so on. at one point i separated a bunch of buckets. deeply glamorous stuff.
we've talked before about how i assign personalities and roles to fellow subway riders, yes? i run through what i think would go down if i were to be stranded in an underground tunnel with the smatterings of people around me as i commute. i'm not especially worried about that actually happening, really, but i like to imagine what i'd learn if we got stuck together somewhere. (welcome to the milquetoast world of introvert kink. episode i: conversation against one's will!). it turns out that screenings crew shifts are a lot like being stuck in a subway car: i had a lot of really long talks with the sorts of people whose stories i invent in the five minutes we share on some platform underneath broadway. they're enthusiasts, these people - not just film enthusiasts, though there were plenty of those, but all sorts. many attended festival screenings for a few years and decided they wanted in. others were peoplewatchers who gave away the vouchers we received after each shift - they were there for the connections, not the freebies. i thought i was there to do grunt work, but i was there for some of all of it: whipping around the venues like a rat between train tracks, trading calling cards (mine) and pocket-size head shots (theirs) with starry-eyed theatre students, arguing about directors and pizza parlors and boroughs with a bunch of strangers too tired to stand up straight when the last show of the night let out. tossing the invented backstories i no longer needed on my way out the door, limping down third avenue on busted feet.
*don't believe the porn, internets: what college gals want is to eat fried eggs and ice cream all night long.
**i love carrying stuff. i'm the queen of helping folks move.
01 the proud mother of a girl starring in one of the documentaries
02 the substitute teacher from queens who applies hand sanitizer to the bottom of her purse
03 the actress who talks the concessions staff into giving her six bags of popcorn
04 the twenty-year-old harmony korine aficionado
05 the sales rep training for his first ironman who scorns beer in green bottles
06 the tentative foreigner who's signed up for every shift in hopes of getting an unpaid internship
07 the film critic who relishes the electronic ticket-scanning process ("i'm getting screened! it's pretty hot!")
08 the music-magazine production assistant who loves thousand-year eggs
09 the middle-aged englishman who refuses comp tickets because he doesn't like movies
10-12 the trio of winsome undergrads who eat dinner three times each night*
it was half past eleven when i crossed houston on the way home from my last shift in the village last night. my feet were busted from four hours of pacing around a basement theater, but i was glad to be outside and moving; i like being in the mix when the lower east side wakes up on a weeknight. the folks in the mostly-empty bars you pass are locals, no one's in a hurry to be anywhere, and there's time and room to peer down alleys and get lost in window displays.
i volunteered for the screenings crew because i wanted to carry film. they needed some people to move reels from theater to theater, they said, some people who could handle twenty-five pounds or so. why, sure!** i've never touched film, but i feel strongly about it, and i figured it was about time. i learned (too late!) that the transporters are expected to have cars, so i still haven't touched film; i spent each of my three shifts scanning tickets and badges, handing out and taking in audience ballots, pointing out bathrooms, and so on. at one point i separated a bunch of buckets. deeply glamorous stuff.
we've talked before about how i assign personalities and roles to fellow subway riders, yes? i run through what i think would go down if i were to be stranded in an underground tunnel with the smatterings of people around me as i commute. i'm not especially worried about that actually happening, really, but i like to imagine what i'd learn if we got stuck together somewhere. (welcome to the milquetoast world of introvert kink. episode i: conversation against one's will!). it turns out that screenings crew shifts are a lot like being stuck in a subway car: i had a lot of really long talks with the sorts of people whose stories i invent in the five minutes we share on some platform underneath broadway. they're enthusiasts, these people - not just film enthusiasts, though there were plenty of those, but all sorts. many attended festival screenings for a few years and decided they wanted in. others were peoplewatchers who gave away the vouchers we received after each shift - they were there for the connections, not the freebies. i thought i was there to do grunt work, but i was there for some of all of it: whipping around the venues like a rat between train tracks, trading calling cards (mine) and pocket-size head shots (theirs) with starry-eyed theatre students, arguing about directors and pizza parlors and boroughs with a bunch of strangers too tired to stand up straight when the last show of the night let out. tossing the invented backstories i no longer needed on my way out the door, limping down third avenue on busted feet.
*don't believe the porn, internets: what college gals want is to eat fried eggs and ice cream all night long.
**i love carrying stuff. i'm the queen of helping folks move.
02.10.12: mystery train {name that tune edition}
let's be honest: most subway performers are nuisances. i want to read and/or spy on people when i'm on the train, and it's ever so much more difficult when feet are flying about my head and/or i'm trying to ignore a loud, off-key song about the jesus (breakdancing crackhead barbershop quartets, i'm looking at you). buskers on the platform, now - those folks make my day. solemn midtown saxophonist taking mancini's "pink panther theme" like a slinky on a long flight of stairs? go on. erhu player treating chinatown to the opening notes of "raspberry beret"? we have yet to meet, but the idea of you lights up my life. here's a variation on the game in which i ask you to match readers with their books: can you pick out the song this fellow's playing? (i'm not at all sure that it's difficult, but joe claimed otherwise.)
let's be honest: most subway performers are nuisances. i want to read and/or spy on people when i'm on the train, and it's ever so much more difficult when feet are flying about my head and/or i'm trying to ignore a loud, off-key song about the jesus (breakdancing crackhead barbershop quartets, i'm looking at you). buskers on the platform, now - those folks make my day. solemn midtown saxophonist taking mancini's "pink panther theme" like a slinky on a long flight of stairs? go on. erhu player treating chinatown to the opening notes of "raspberry beret"? we have yet to meet, but the idea of you lights up my life. here's a variation on the game in which i ask you to match readers with their books: can you pick out the song this fellow's playing? (i'm not at all sure that it's difficult, but joe claimed otherwise.)
01.27.12: the dirty dozen {mystery train,* round IV}
that last matched batch of books and their train-ridin' readers went down as decisively as i did when i sprained my ankle two weeks ago; well done, everyone! thanks to the latter plunge, since last we convened to speculate about the subway system and its denizens, purpy and i have spent a lot of time on both trains and buses; while i would love to present you with a sub-challenge of bus riders and their books, we all know the bus is full of text-scorning ruffians. you should see them eat, though!
this passel, on the other hand, continues to savor the printed word. would the dueling eugenides-readers (for whom i've decided to bump the batch to thirteen, since with the repeat there are only twelve books) make a good crime-fighting duo? if so, which one would take their motorcycle's sidecar? which text was one mystery reader underlining with such gusto? where was the man with the waxed moustache going? am i among these people in a fabulous disguise?** so many questions; as yet, so few answers. as before, if you correctly pair a book with its reader, i'll update the lists.
that last matched batch of books and their train-ridin' readers went down as decisively as i did when i sprained my ankle two weeks ago; well done, everyone! thanks to the latter plunge, since last we convened to speculate about the subway system and its denizens, purpy and i have spent a lot of time on both trains and buses; while i would love to present you with a sub-challenge of bus riders and their books, we all know the bus is full of text-scorning ruffians. you should see them eat, though!
this passel, on the other hand, continues to savor the printed word. would the dueling eugenides-readers (for whom i've decided to bump the batch to thirteen, since with the repeat there are only twelve books) make a good crime-fighting duo? if so, which one would take their motorcycle's sidecar? which text was one mystery reader underlining with such gusto? where was the man with the waxed moustache going? am i among these people in a fabulous disguise?** so many questions; as yet, so few answers. as before, if you correctly pair a book with its reader, i'll update the lists.
{the peeps}
01 F, early 20s, long, loose, dark hair, gray-blue puffer coat with high cloud collar, big, caramel-brown leather purse in lap, black messenger bag and brown paper bag at feet, crocheted black tights, heavy dark-brown harness boots, ditched book and switched to oriental trading company catalog after six stops, switched to lucky after two more, B train [city of glass, paul auster - MDF recalls my auster-hatred]
02 M, early 40s, short, gelled hair, rectangular, wire-rimmed reading glasses, narrow, square jaw, frowning, red-and-white plaid shirt, beat-up indiana jones-ish leather coat, ipod and big black messenger bag in lap, green chinos, brown desert boots, F train
03 M, 60s, wild white hair, two-tone reading glasses, short down-filled north face jacket with sex and the city crew patch on left shoulder, faded black jeans, black swiss army backpack hanging from left knee, tan work boots, F train [shell game, carol o'connell - MDF spots the first of the murdering kind]04 M, late 30s, intentional stubble, slight flip in bangs, black wool overcoat, blue and white microstriped dress shirt worn open-necked over white tee, french cuffs with black monkey's-fist cufflinks, grey slacks, shiny black slip-ons, ratty grey gym bag worn cross-body, B train [republic, lost: how money corrupts congress—and a plan to stop it, lawrence lessig - rob knows his purposeful menswear]
05 F, early 40s, shoulder-length, curly black hair, charcoal grey wool coat with button-down epaulets, lavender scarf, grey pencil skirt, sizeable diamond engagement ring and wedding band, shoulder bag made of beige seatbelts, flat black boots, holding orange library card, A train [well-offed in vermont, amy patricia meade - MDF pegs the second killer as well]
06 M, 30s, grey knit cap, faint stubble, navy zippered members only jacket over grey-green hoodie, japanese denim jeans, monochrome black chuck taylors, grey-and-navy gym bag in lap, wearing grey flip-up smoking mittens, L train
07 M, late 30s, stubble and grizzly goatee, grey folded-up knit cap, black anorak with white-lined hood, dirty jeans, grey airwalks with red stripes, massive black messenger bag over shoulder and in lap, ankles crossed and tucked under seat, R train
08 F, 20s, round face, long, loose, side-parted brown hair, purple-and-green missioni zigzag scarf, big brown purse with gold straps and a little green purse tucked inside, horizontally-quilted black puffer coat, flared-leg jeans, pointy-toed black oxfords, holding book up with both hands right in front of her face, F train
09 M, 30s, full red beard and waxed, upturned moustache, denim driving cap, thick white plastic glasses, dark jeans, blue plaid shirt under open khaki trench, heavy gold chain, blue slip-on vans, tall blue-on-blue doctor's satchel between knees, M train
10 M, 30s, caesar haircut with long bangs, thin face with high cheekbones, heavy black sock-hop-era wool coat over hoodie, jeans, grey and black running shoes, huge khaki-and-acid-green messenger bag on lap, B train [the marriage plot, jeffrey eugenides - MDF - was it the bangs?]
11 F, 20s, wavy hair in model-on-a-go-see updo, brooke shields eyebrows, red lipstick, red ski patrol parka with white reflective stripe, grey heather leggings, black motorcycle boots, black leather bucket bag with little brass feet, B train
12 M, 30s, black wire-rimmed glasses, short, dark, curly hair, incipient neck beard, oversized black nylon hoodie, worn unzipped, dark jeans, dark brown leather moccasins, gripping train pole with the crook of his arm, large plastic zabar's bag at feet, B train
13 F, 50s, curly, shoulder-length, salt-and-pepper hair, black wire-rimmed reading glasses, long, black wool coat, massive black new york public radio tote bag hanging over knees, teal leather purse in lap, book full of notes and passages underlined in red pencil, F train [mrs. dalloway, virginia woolf - MDF, unafraid]
{the books}republic, lost: how money corrupts congress—and a plan to stop it, lawrence lessig
juliet, naked, nick hornby
word freak: heartbreak, triumph, genius, and obsession in the world of competitive scrabble players, stefan fatsisthe marriage plot, jeffrey eugenides
a tree grows in brooklyn, betty smith
the kandy-kolored tangerine-flake streamline baby, tom wolfecity of glass, paul auster
getting things done: the art of stress-free productivity, david allenshell game, carol o'connellmrs. dalloway, virginia woolf
the marriage plot, jeffrey eugenides
super sad true love story, gary shteyngartwell-offed in vermont, amy patricia meade
*tip of the hat, as always, to coverspy.
**at one point this week i was trying to nab the guy sitting next to me (a dodgy proposition, as they can usually see what you're writing); i couldn't catch the outside of his book and didn't recognize the text, though, so i gave up and started reading my own. when he closed it and got up to leave, i realized we were both holding copies of pulphead; then a black hole opened up in the seat-molding betwixt us and swallowed the entire train.
01.06.12: the dirty dozen {mystery train, round III}
december's installment of mystery train ended yesterday in a grand-guignol tide of merciless identifications, probably because i've been bellowing about how i can't post a new list until the previous one's readers have been matched up with titles (even though the list before it still has four orphans). let's bring bookish back in 2012 and get cracking again without delay, shall we?
here are twelve subway riders and the books they were reading when i started taking creepy notes on them. who got his or her hands on an advance reader copy of catherine chung's first novel? might the argentina enthusiast be someone i'd like to travel with on my way down to antarctica?* is there something buried in our dna which compels us to use airplane tickets as bookmarks?** can we talk about how amazing it is that someone's reading mercedes lackey in the twenty-first century? as before, if you correctly pair a book with its reader, i'll update the lists. tip of the hat, as always, to coverspy - and may the odds be ever in your favor.
[final update: as of 01.10.12, no riders remain! well done, internets; i'll begin my creeping anew on the morrow. see below for the correct pairings.]
{the peeps}
01 F, early 20s, curly, layered blonde hair, high-collared, draped black coat, black skirt, black tights, black spike-heeled booties, crossed legs, gold-studded black hobo in lap, sniffling, D train [catching fire, suzanne collins - jacob's first mercy killing]
02 F, 20s, long, thick black hair twisted back at temples, long eyelashes, thick mauve scarf, long black puffer with grey-faux-fur-trimed hood, narrow, pointy-toed, high-heeled, black mary janes, R train [a clash of kings, george r. r. martin - rob, hunting witches]
03 F, late 20s, freckles, golden-red hair in short, neat ponytail, long camel coat, pink-and-aqua scarf with gold threads, dark brown shell, long gold necklace, rust-colored leather bag on shoulder, jeans, caramel moccasins, F train [straphanger: saving our cities and ourselves from the automobile, taras grescoe - rob 2: electric boogaloo]
04 F, early 50s, thick, straightened blonde hair, half-rim tortoiseshell glasses, coral lipstick, black anorak with gold zippers and buttons, black prada shoulder bag, black riding boots over black leggings, B train [eyewitness argentina (dk eyewitness travel guides) - MDF spotted the well-heeled traveler]
05 F, early 30s, snowflake manicure, stick-straight, center-parted, chin-length, dyed red hair, red hooded pea coat, grey tights, black ballet flats with snakeskin bows, linda the bra lady bag, F train [wives and daughters, elizabeth gaskell - rob identifies casa de kidchamp's nod to #boobsweek]
06 M, early 40s, hair swept up and back from brow, full cheeks, half-frame glasses with upturned corners, thick brown leather jacket, green boot-cut sweatpants, blue converse all-stars, blue case logic satchel in lap, D train [arrows of the queen, mercedes lackey - george, like talia, is an empath]
07 F, 60s, thin-brimmed black hat lined with black faux shearling, curly steel grey hair, wire-rimmed reading glasses, royal blue barn coat, black gloves, tapestry cross-body bag, heavy black hiking boots, grey flared trousers, C train [a fine balance, rohinton mistry - maggie lands a hit from the southern hemisphere]
08 M, 40s, stout, artfully mussed hair, beard with white streaks, black pea coat over dusty blue fisherman's sweater, bright red vans, two black duffels between feet, F train [the sixth man, david baldacci - MDF spied the baldacci enthusiast's artful muss]
09 F, early 20s, brown bangs, black hood up and clutched below chin, knitted olive scarf looped around under hood, black manicure, pigeon-toed black combat boots over black leggings, F train [miss peregrine's home for peculiar children, ransom riggs - MDF, neighborhood goth watch]
10 F, late 40s, short hair, rectangular purple reading glasses, intricate, dangly silver earrings, deep purple turtleneck, large gold rings on every finger but her thumbs, long-tasseled black scarf, black coat, black slacks, penguin classics tote hung on knees, F train [the girl from foreign: a memoir, sadia shepard - george: the revenge]
11 F, early 20s, zaftig, cable-knit black cap over long, straightened dark brown hair, raisin-tinted lipstick, black slouch boots over indigo jeggings, grey leather crossbody bag, D train [extremely loud and incredibly close, jonathan safran foer - suspected by jacob, scorner of suspect editions]
12 M, late 20s, thinning, close-cropped hair with widow's peak, thick eyebrows, neatly trimmed moustache and beard, brown waxed-canvas coat with luxe orange plaid lining, black-and-white pony sneakers, bright purple backpack between feet, boarding pass as bookmark, F train [forgotten country, catherine chung - jacob's second mercy killing]
{the books}
a fine balance, rohinton mistry
miss peregrine's home for peculiar children, ransom riggs
extremely loud and incredibly close, jonathan safran foer
wives and daughters, elizabeth gaskell
the sixth man, david baldacci
straphanger: saving our cities and ourselves from the automobile, taras grescoe
arrows of the queen, mercedes lackey
the girl from foreign: a memoir, sadia shepard
forgotten country, catherine chung
catching fire, suzanne collins
a clash of kings, george r. r. martin
eyewitness argentina (dk eyewitness travel guides)
december's installment of mystery train ended yesterday in a grand-guignol tide of merciless identifications, probably because i've been bellowing about how i can't post a new list until the previous one's readers have been matched up with titles (even though the list before it still has four orphans). let's bring bookish back in 2012 and get cracking again without delay, shall we?
here are twelve subway riders and the books they were reading when i started taking creepy notes on them. who got his or her hands on an advance reader copy of catherine chung's first novel? might the argentina enthusiast be someone i'd like to travel with on my way down to antarctica?* is there something buried in our dna which compels us to use airplane tickets as bookmarks?** can we talk about how amazing it is that someone's reading mercedes lackey in the twenty-first century? as before, if you correctly pair a book with its reader, i'll update the lists. tip of the hat, as always, to coverspy - and may the odds be ever in your favor.
[final update: as of 01.10.12, no riders remain! well done, internets; i'll begin my creeping anew on the morrow. see below for the correct pairings.]
{the peeps}
01 F, early 20s, curly, layered blonde hair, high-collared, draped black coat, black skirt, black tights, black spike-heeled booties, crossed legs, gold-studded black hobo in lap, sniffling, D train [catching fire, suzanne collins - jacob's first mercy killing]
02 F, 20s, long, thick black hair twisted back at temples, long eyelashes, thick mauve scarf, long black puffer with grey-faux-fur-trimed hood, narrow, pointy-toed, high-heeled, black mary janes, R train [a clash of kings, george r. r. martin - rob, hunting witches]
03 F, late 20s, freckles, golden-red hair in short, neat ponytail, long camel coat, pink-and-aqua scarf with gold threads, dark brown shell, long gold necklace, rust-colored leather bag on shoulder, jeans, caramel moccasins, F train [straphanger: saving our cities and ourselves from the automobile, taras grescoe - rob 2: electric boogaloo]
04 F, early 50s, thick, straightened blonde hair, half-rim tortoiseshell glasses, coral lipstick, black anorak with gold zippers and buttons, black prada shoulder bag, black riding boots over black leggings, B train [eyewitness argentina (dk eyewitness travel guides) - MDF spotted the well-heeled traveler]
05 F, early 30s, snowflake manicure, stick-straight, center-parted, chin-length, dyed red hair, red hooded pea coat, grey tights, black ballet flats with snakeskin bows, linda the bra lady bag, F train [wives and daughters, elizabeth gaskell - rob identifies casa de kidchamp's nod to #boobsweek]
06 M, early 40s, hair swept up and back from brow, full cheeks, half-frame glasses with upturned corners, thick brown leather jacket, green boot-cut sweatpants, blue converse all-stars, blue case logic satchel in lap, D train [arrows of the queen, mercedes lackey - george, like talia, is an empath]
07 F, 60s, thin-brimmed black hat lined with black faux shearling, curly steel grey hair, wire-rimmed reading glasses, royal blue barn coat, black gloves, tapestry cross-body bag, heavy black hiking boots, grey flared trousers, C train [a fine balance, rohinton mistry - maggie lands a hit from the southern hemisphere]
08 M, 40s, stout, artfully mussed hair, beard with white streaks, black pea coat over dusty blue fisherman's sweater, bright red vans, two black duffels between feet, F train [the sixth man, david baldacci - MDF spied the baldacci enthusiast's artful muss]
09 F, early 20s, brown bangs, black hood up and clutched below chin, knitted olive scarf looped around under hood, black manicure, pigeon-toed black combat boots over black leggings, F train [miss peregrine's home for peculiar children, ransom riggs - MDF, neighborhood goth watch]
10 F, late 40s, short hair, rectangular purple reading glasses, intricate, dangly silver earrings, deep purple turtleneck, large gold rings on every finger but her thumbs, long-tasseled black scarf, black coat, black slacks, penguin classics tote hung on knees, F train [the girl from foreign: a memoir, sadia shepard - george: the revenge]
11 F, early 20s, zaftig, cable-knit black cap over long, straightened dark brown hair, raisin-tinted lipstick, black slouch boots over indigo jeggings, grey leather crossbody bag, D train [extremely loud and incredibly close, jonathan safran foer - suspected by jacob, scorner of suspect editions]
12 M, late 20s, thinning, close-cropped hair with widow's peak, thick eyebrows, neatly trimmed moustache and beard, brown waxed-canvas coat with luxe orange plaid lining, black-and-white pony sneakers, bright purple backpack between feet, boarding pass as bookmark, F train [forgotten country, catherine chung - jacob's second mercy killing]
{the books}
*fun fact: if you head for antarctica via argentina, you don't need a yellow fever vaccination.
**i dog-ear books, both at the top corners (to mark my place) and at the bottom corners (to designate pages i want to revisit for THUNDERTOME). some pages are scored thrice and end up looking mangled, but they are mangled with love.
01.03.12
how florid you were, end of 2011! abandoned by an ailing milkmaid, i watched a kid from billy elliot dump blood all over a bunch of shakespeareans;* spirited to arizona, i read the hunger games trilogy in like thirty-six hours and beheld a giant snowman made of diet root beer. i floated in a nudie tank at the new museum and ended up with swimmer's ear; i flew to california and received a rhino head made of old pants. i donned a creepy venetian mask and completely missed the orgy room at sleep no more.*** i started a book that, had i finished it, would've won THUNDERTOME for the year. there is much to tell, and i have missed you.
how florid you were, end of 2011! abandoned by an ailing milkmaid, i watched a kid from billy elliot dump blood all over a bunch of shakespeareans;* spirited to arizona, i read the hunger games trilogy in like thirty-six hours and beheld a giant snowman made of diet root beer. i floated in a nudie tank at the new museum and ended up with swimmer's ear; i flew to california and received a rhino head made of old pants. i donned a creepy venetian mask and completely missed the orgy room at sleep no more.*** i started a book that, had i finished it, would've won THUNDERTOME for the year. there is much to tell, and i have missed you.
imaginary reading group discussion questions
01 does stage blood bother you?
02 how many plane rides did you take in december?
03 would you risk getting swimmer's ear from a museum's nudie tank?
04 if you were a rhino head made of old pants, would you rather hang above a bar cart or in a bedroom?
05 can i post another dozen subway readers even though some of the previous fourteen remain unmatched?
06 where were you on new year's eve?
*second-bloodiest show i've ever seen!**
**the all-time bloodiest was evil dead: the musical.
***which, let's be honest, is probably for the best; december was already unusually nude.
12.15.11: the dirty dozen +2 {mystery train, part II}
it's been awhile since i last challenged you to guess what my fellow new-york-city-subway-riders are reading, though i find myself wanting to write about people i see on the train all the time (particularly when i've cleaned out my bag and forgotten to bring my own read). part of that is my reluctance to bite coverspy's moves (i want to tip my hat, not pick their pockets), and part of it is that 2011's the year i forgot to talk about books on the internet. beastly!
let's try again: here are fourteen riders and the fourteen books they were reading. who's learning english (or turkish)? who now knows that kelly cutrone became, at age 11, the first female umpire in her small town in upstate new york? are ipads the new girl with the dragon tattoo? as before, if you correctly pair a book with its reader, i'll update the lists. guess, guess!
[final update: as of 01.05.12, there are no survivors! see below for the pairs and killers.]
{the peeps}
01 M, 70s, thick, tufted white hair, white linen suit with fraying jacket hem, red crewneck sweater over white oxford shirt, black wire-rimmed glasses, tasseled oxblood loafers with black socks, B train [name and address: an autobiography, t.s. matthews - holli pegged him]
02 F, 20s, long red braid snaking out over shoulder from tie-dyed green baseball cap, silver nose ring, armful of silver bangles, large silver crucifix, F train [you are a little bit happier than i am, tao lin - georgepocalypse victim I]
03 F, 20s, grey slouched beret over sideswept chestnut bangs, tropical-snake-length plum scarf looped around neck like five times, black buckled boots, long navy coat, F train [@ontext, cory doctorow - georgepocalypse victim II]
04 M, early 30s, blue suede adidas with yellow stripes, c. 1972 cleveland browns knitted pom pom hat, white ipod buds in ears, heavy tortoiseshell glasses, neatly trimmed beard, F train [breakfast of champions, kurt vonnegut - victim of a gracie/valya double-team]
05 F, 20s, short, tightly-curled black hair, pearl earrings, black hooded puffer, black studded rebecca minkoff hobo, black plaid tights, green ipod nano, black shopping bag, ballet flats, B train [the lying days, nadine gordimer - rob studies, then strikes]
06 F, 20s, asian, hair with shaved sides, black coat, black-and-tan golf umbrella, black-and-green rain boots, black plaid tights, M train [if you have to cry, go outside, kelly cutrone - rob spots the PR hatchling]
07 F, 50s, brown faux-fur-trimmed puffer, caramel-colored polka-dotted scarf on head, wide-legged brown slacks, brown orthopedic shoes, camel scarf, B train [langenscheidt's universal dictionary (english-turkish, turkish-english)] - also rob; seriously, keep an eye on these guys who run marathons between distilleries in the middle of the night]
08 F, 30s, long camel coat, maroon tights, black dress, gold breastplate necklace, long brown hair, large black purse with heavy gold hardware in lap, F train [the unmaking of israel, gershom gorenberg - georgepocalypse victim III]
09 M, 40s, yarmulke, heavy black pea coat, black turtleneck, black slacks, rectangular tortoiseshell reading glasses, soft brown leather briefcase between feet, B train [the drop, michael connelly - MDF ID'ed my pulp-loving neighbor]
10 F, 30s, gauzy black-and-white paisley scarf, open black pea coat, grey slacks, small orange bag on knees, slim wedding ring, twisting curly hair around finger, F train [fathers and sons, ivan turgenev - georgepocalypse victim IV]
11 F, 20s, feathered red hair, tiny diamond nose stud, oatmeal-colored cashmere fingerless gloves, flat black folded-down boots, F train [the boleyn inheritance, philippa gregory - georgepocalypse victim V]
12 F, early 30s, short hair, short-sleeved buffalo plaid coat over long grey sleeves, short black dress, black tights, black boots with spats, dirty grey leather messenger bag, A train [death be not proud, john gunther - i flashed MDF and jacob]
13 M, 30s, curly brown hair, moustache with flecks of white, full beard, rust-colored shawl-collar sweater, beige all-stars, leather-trimmed navy canvas weekender between feet, tweed slacks, tortoiseshell glasses, continental airlines boarding pass as bookmark, F train [the cave, josé saramago - MDF profiles the traveler]
14 M, 30s, ash-brown tintin hair, green brooklyn industries messenger bag slung across chest, grey overcoat with popped collar, neutral plaid scarf, heavy brown leather slip-ons, leaning against door and balancing book on belly, D train [the secret soldier, alex berenson - MDF, TCB]
{the books}
fathers and sons, ivan turgenev
breakfast of champions, kurt vonnegut
name and address: an autobiography, t.s. matthews
the lying days, nadine gordimer
you are a little bit happier than i am, tao lin
death be not proud, john gunther
the drop, michael connelly
the boleyn inheritance, philippa gregory
the secret soldier, alex berenson
the cave, josé saramago
langenscheidt's universal dictionary (english-turkish, turkish-english)
the unmaking of israel, gershom gorenberg
©ontext, cory doctorow
it's been awhile since i last challenged you to guess what my fellow new-york-city-subway-riders are reading, though i find myself wanting to write about people i see on the train all the time (particularly when i've cleaned out my bag and forgotten to bring my own read). part of that is my reluctance to bite coverspy's moves (i want to tip my hat, not pick their pockets), and part of it is that 2011's the year i forgot to talk about books on the internet. beastly!
let's try again: here are fourteen riders and the fourteen books they were reading. who's learning english (or turkish)? who now knows that kelly cutrone became, at age 11, the first female umpire in her small town in upstate new york? are ipads the new girl with the dragon tattoo? as before, if you correctly pair a book with its reader, i'll update the lists. guess, guess!
[final update: as of 01.05.12, there are no survivors! see below for the pairs and killers.]
{the peeps}
01 M, 70s, thick, tufted white hair, white linen suit with fraying jacket hem, red crewneck sweater over white oxford shirt, black wire-rimmed glasses, tasseled oxblood loafers with black socks, B train [name and address: an autobiography, t.s. matthews - holli pegged him]
02 F, 20s, long red braid snaking out over shoulder from tie-dyed green baseball cap, silver nose ring, armful of silver bangles, large silver crucifix, F train [you are a little bit happier than i am, tao lin - georgepocalypse victim I]
03 F, 20s, grey slouched beret over sideswept chestnut bangs, tropical-snake-length plum scarf looped around neck like five times, black buckled boots, long navy coat, F train [@ontext, cory doctorow - georgepocalypse victim II]
04 M, early 30s, blue suede adidas with yellow stripes, c. 1972 cleveland browns knitted pom pom hat, white ipod buds in ears, heavy tortoiseshell glasses, neatly trimmed beard, F train [breakfast of champions, kurt vonnegut - victim of a gracie/valya double-team]
05 F, 20s, short, tightly-curled black hair, pearl earrings, black hooded puffer, black studded rebecca minkoff hobo, black plaid tights, green ipod nano, black shopping bag, ballet flats, B train [the lying days, nadine gordimer - rob studies, then strikes]
06 F, 20s, asian, hair with shaved sides, black coat, black-and-tan golf umbrella, black-and-green rain boots, black plaid tights, M train [if you have to cry, go outside, kelly cutrone - rob spots the PR hatchling]
07 F, 50s, brown faux-fur-trimmed puffer, caramel-colored polka-dotted scarf on head, wide-legged brown slacks, brown orthopedic shoes, camel scarf, B train [langenscheidt's universal dictionary (english-turkish, turkish-english)] - also rob; seriously, keep an eye on these guys who run marathons between distilleries in the middle of the night]
08 F, 30s, long camel coat, maroon tights, black dress, gold breastplate necklace, long brown hair, large black purse with heavy gold hardware in lap, F train [the unmaking of israel, gershom gorenberg - georgepocalypse victim III]
09 M, 40s, yarmulke, heavy black pea coat, black turtleneck, black slacks, rectangular tortoiseshell reading glasses, soft brown leather briefcase between feet, B train [the drop, michael connelly - MDF ID'ed my pulp-loving neighbor]
10 F, 30s, gauzy black-and-white paisley scarf, open black pea coat, grey slacks, small orange bag on knees, slim wedding ring, twisting curly hair around finger, F train [fathers and sons, ivan turgenev - georgepocalypse victim IV]
11 F, 20s, feathered red hair, tiny diamond nose stud, oatmeal-colored cashmere fingerless gloves, flat black folded-down boots, F train [the boleyn inheritance, philippa gregory - georgepocalypse victim V]
12 F, early 30s, short hair, short-sleeved buffalo plaid coat over long grey sleeves, short black dress, black tights, black boots with spats, dirty grey leather messenger bag, A train [death be not proud, john gunther - i flashed MDF and jacob]
13 M, 30s, curly brown hair, moustache with flecks of white, full beard, rust-colored shawl-collar sweater, beige all-stars, leather-trimmed navy canvas weekender between feet, tweed slacks, tortoiseshell glasses, continental airlines boarding pass as bookmark, F train [the cave, josé saramago - MDF profiles the traveler]
14 M, 30s, ash-brown tintin hair, green brooklyn industries messenger bag slung across chest, grey overcoat with popped collar, neutral plaid scarf, heavy brown leather slip-ons, leaning against door and balancing book on belly, D train [the secret soldier, alex berenson - MDF, TCB]
{the books}
11.18.11
101 in 1001 {II}: ride the subway on staten island [completed 11.13.11]
what do prince philip, queen elizabeth the second, winston churchill, madonna, and joe and i have in common? we're all famous british people, of course, but that's too easy; no, i'm thinking of how we've all made use of the staten island railway.
folks aren't usually receptive to my requests for shaolin-train-riding companionship, but the missus is a special case; also, he remembered that we'd talked years ago about tracking down good italian food at the other end of the boat ride. he found enoteca maria, and it was for us: a rotating cast of italian grandmothers prepare rustic italian food for diners just up the hill from the ferry landing. our evening's nonna was adelina from napoli, and her food kicked ass; we were full of mozzarella di bufala and artichokes long before we made it to our pasta (me) and bass (joe), but one doesn't stop eating at nonna's table. when we explained that we had to run to catch the eight o'clock ferry, we were promptly buried beneath a pile of cookies; it was outstanding.
and the rail - the rail was fascinating, and weird. one only pays to ride the train at its endpoints (all of the other stations will let you on for free); somehow this means that you have to swipe your card as you exit the station as well, a step we only learned about when we tried to push through the turnstiles and got whacked in the yarbles. so that was a low point; we learned later that our randomly-chosen stop (stapleton) played a supporting role in madonna's papa don't preach video, though, and that made everything better. staten island, i will be back.
101 in 1001 {II}: ride the subway on staten island [completed 11.13.11]
what do prince philip, queen elizabeth the second, winston churchill, madonna, and joe and i have in common? we're all famous british people, of course, but that's too easy; no, i'm thinking of how we've all made use of the staten island railway.
folks aren't usually receptive to my requests for shaolin-train-riding companionship, but the missus is a special case; also, he remembered that we'd talked years ago about tracking down good italian food at the other end of the boat ride. he found enoteca maria, and it was for us: a rotating cast of italian grandmothers prepare rustic italian food for diners just up the hill from the ferry landing. our evening's nonna was adelina from napoli, and her food kicked ass; we were full of mozzarella di bufala and artichokes long before we made it to our pasta (me) and bass (joe), but one doesn't stop eating at nonna's table. when we explained that we had to run to catch the eight o'clock ferry, we were promptly buried beneath a pile of cookies; it was outstanding.
and the rail - the rail was fascinating, and weird. one only pays to ride the train at its endpoints (all of the other stations will let you on for free); somehow this means that you have to swipe your card as you exit the station as well, a step we only learned about when we tried to push through the turnstiles and got whacked in the yarbles. so that was a low point; we learned later that our randomly-chosen stop (stapleton) played a supporting role in madonna's papa don't preach video, though, and that made everything better. staten island, i will be back.
06.23.11: the dirty dozen, part II
05 coming home last night. no sound required.
05 coming home last night. no sound required.
06 on the way to work this morning. worth a listen.
07
Birds singing
in the dark
--Rainy dawn.
(jack kerouac)
05.11.11
RULE II
CONVERSATIONS
After Midnight on Subway Platforms
1. Speakers shall punctuate remarks with bikinitástico and progenitor-ass or suspend business.
RULE II
CONVERSATIONS
After Midnight on Subway Platforms
1. Speakers shall punctuate remarks with bikinitástico and progenitor-ass or suspend business.
02.11.11: the dirty dozen {mystery train}
the time has come to see if you've absorbed the subway reader patterns i've been broadcasting in my homages to coverspy. can one judge a reader by his or her text? do all mass market enthusiasts use industrial-strength product? is everyone so poor at this point that they're rereading the books they were too cheap to sell back to the bookstore in college? so many questions.
here are the latest twelve titles i spied on trips around town; who's reading what, smarties? if you pair a book with its reader, i'll update the lists; you probably won't win anything, but one never knows, now does one.
{the peeps}
[01] M, early 30s, reddish forelock, tortoiseshell glasses, tan and grey plaid scarf, navy pea coat with anchor buttons, black slacks, black capped oxfords, F train [the death and life of great american cities, jane jacobs - per george, as planners know planners]
[02] F, 20s, thick-frame black glasses, green fleece princess coat with hood up over sage green cap, silver nose ring, red fishbone messenger bag, fingerless gloves with LOVE knitted across the knuckles, F train [another country, james baldwin - good call, gracie]
[03] F, 50s, holding orange eyeglasses, black newsboy cap, lavender scarf, blue plaid shoulder bag, whole foods shopping bag, black faux-fur-lined boots, F train [sweet misfortune, kevin alan milne - george's need for order carries us forward]
[04] M, 30s, neatly trimmed red beard, smudged black writing on back of right hand, oatmeal fisherman sweater, khakis, tan hiking boots, F train [the dark is rising, susan cooper - that book scared the crap out of me when i was a wee lass, katherine]
05 M, 20s, thick black hair, charcoal coat, grey shirt, japanese denim skinny jeans, tan brushed twill bag with red zipper and a yellow bow on the handle, narrow black sneakers, F train
[06] F, 20s, fantastic black eyebrows, black ferragamo bag with gold hardware, black cowl-neck coat, black and white umbrella, caramel leather boots, F train [who can ride the dragon?: an exploration of the cultural roots of traditional chinese medicine - burninated by gracie]
[07] F, 20s, no makeup, ribbed knit eggplant cap pulled down to eyebrows, sky blue quilted jacket, acid green crossbody bag, running shoes, D train [the omnivore's dilemma, michael pollan - katherine knows her brooklyners]
[08] M, early 40s, rectangular glasses, black-and-white-striped saint james cap, black cotton varsity jacket, faded grey slacks, green manhattan portage bag, F train [main lines, blood feasts, and bad taste: a lester bangs reader, lester bangs - gracie strikes again]
[09] M, 30s, shoulder-length black hair, beard, long, double-breasted tan coat with faux shearling, kelly-green-and-white argyle socks, black loafers with bit hardware removed, F train [rich dad, poor dad, robert kiyosaki - george's OCD at work]
10 F, 30s, blue wire-frame glasses, earphones, dreadlocks in a high ponytail, red cloth trader joe's bag, black purse, bookmark with ivory cord, F train
11 M, 20s, gelled curly hair, chin strap with soul patch, black coat with faux-fur-lined hood and gold zipper, black jeans, black north face backpack between feet, D train
12 M, 20s, dirty hair, headphones leaking industrial rock, khakis, tan coat, jittery tapping foot, F train
{the books}
deception point, dan brown
[main lines, blood feasts, and bad taste: a lester bangs reader, lester bangs]
[sweet misfortune, kevin alan milne]
[another country, james baldwin]
brother, i'm dying, edwidge danticat
[who can ride the dragon?: an exploration of the cultural roots of traditional chinese medicine, zhang yu huan and ken rose]
[the death and life of great american cities, jane jacobs]
hegemony or survival: america's quest for global dominance, noam chomsky
la muerte de artemio cruz, carlos fuentes
[the dark is rising, susan cooper]
[the omnivore's dilemma, michael pollan]
[rich dad, poor dad, robert kiyosaki]
the time has come to see if you've absorbed the subway reader patterns i've been broadcasting in my homages to coverspy. can one judge a reader by his or her text? do all mass market enthusiasts use industrial-strength product? is everyone so poor at this point that they're rereading the books they were too cheap to sell back to the bookstore in college? so many questions.
here are the latest twelve titles i spied on trips around town; who's reading what, smarties? if you pair a book with its reader, i'll update the lists; you probably won't win anything, but one never knows, now does one.
{the peeps}
[01] M, early 30s, reddish forelock, tortoiseshell glasses, tan and grey plaid scarf, navy pea coat with anchor buttons, black slacks, black capped oxfords, F train [the death and life of great american cities, jane jacobs - per george, as planners know planners]
[02] F, 20s, thick-frame black glasses, green fleece princess coat with hood up over sage green cap, silver nose ring, red fishbone messenger bag, fingerless gloves with LOVE knitted across the knuckles, F train [another country, james baldwin - good call, gracie]
[03] F, 50s, holding orange eyeglasses, black newsboy cap, lavender scarf, blue plaid shoulder bag, whole foods shopping bag, black faux-fur-lined boots, F train [sweet misfortune, kevin alan milne - george's need for order carries us forward]
[04] M, 30s, neatly trimmed red beard, smudged black writing on back of right hand, oatmeal fisherman sweater, khakis, tan hiking boots, F train [the dark is rising, susan cooper - that book scared the crap out of me when i was a wee lass, katherine]
05 M, 20s, thick black hair, charcoal coat, grey shirt, japanese denim skinny jeans, tan brushed twill bag with red zipper and a yellow bow on the handle, narrow black sneakers, F train
[06] F, 20s, fantastic black eyebrows, black ferragamo bag with gold hardware, black cowl-neck coat, black and white umbrella, caramel leather boots, F train [who can ride the dragon?: an exploration of the cultural roots of traditional chinese medicine - burninated by gracie]
[07] F, 20s, no makeup, ribbed knit eggplant cap pulled down to eyebrows, sky blue quilted jacket, acid green crossbody bag, running shoes, D train [the omnivore's dilemma, michael pollan - katherine knows her brooklyners]
[08] M, early 40s, rectangular glasses, black-and-white-striped saint james cap, black cotton varsity jacket, faded grey slacks, green manhattan portage bag, F train [main lines, blood feasts, and bad taste: a lester bangs reader, lester bangs - gracie strikes again]
[09] M, 30s, shoulder-length black hair, beard, long, double-breasted tan coat with faux shearling, kelly-green-and-white argyle socks, black loafers with bit hardware removed, F train [rich dad, poor dad, robert kiyosaki - george's OCD at work]
10 F, 30s, blue wire-frame glasses, earphones, dreadlocks in a high ponytail, red cloth trader joe's bag, black purse, bookmark with ivory cord, F train
11 M, 20s, gelled curly hair, chin strap with soul patch, black coat with faux-fur-lined hood and gold zipper, black jeans, black north face backpack between feet, D train
12 M, 20s, dirty hair, headphones leaking industrial rock, khakis, tan coat, jittery tapping foot, F train
{the books}
deception point, dan brown
[main lines, blood feasts, and bad taste: a lester bangs reader, lester bangs]
[sweet misfortune, kevin alan milne]
[another country, james baldwin]
brother, i'm dying, edwidge danticat
[who can ride the dragon?: an exploration of the cultural roots of traditional chinese medicine, zhang yu huan and ken rose]
[the death and life of great american cities, jane jacobs]
hegemony or survival: america's quest for global dominance, noam chomsky
la muerte de artemio cruz, carlos fuentes
[the dark is rising, susan cooper]
[the omnivore's dilemma, michael pollan]
[rich dad, poor dad, robert kiyosaki]
01.27.11: the dirty dozen {revenge of coverspy; more subway riders and their books}
01 why did i ever, mary robison (F, late 30s, coppery ribbed knit cap, pale skin, long hooded black puffer coat, mint green wellies, deep purple swiss army backpack at feet, F train)
02 the best american travel writing, bill buford ed., (F, late 20s, white knit hat with pink silk flower, black coat belted over black/white/yellow printed dress, black riding boots, black/blue batik print backpack, F train)
03 china: fragile superpower, susan l. shirk (M, late 30s, red eyebrows, tight grey cap, grey columbia face warmer pulled over nose, grey nylon messenger bag, narrow brown shoes, E train)
04 wuthering heights (twilight-branded cover), emily brontë (F, early 40s, black coat with high, gathered collar, long tan scarf with fur trim, bird shopping bag, black suede louis vuitton bag, F train)
05 richard yates, tao lin (F, late 20s, slightly cleft chin, gold-rimmed aviators, one padded black north face mitten, black patent shoulder bag in lap, floor-length black puffer coat, F train)
06 south side dreams, b.k. ray (M, 40s, black NY knit cap, black and white keffiyeh, bulky black puffer, cuffed jeans, tan work boots, 1 train)
07 franny and zooey, j.d. salinger (M, 20s, curly quiff, grey scarf, open black greatcoat, black leather turf shoes, giant green frame backback, E train)
08 hell's angels, hunter s. thompson (M, early 30s, carefully parted hair, bright red scarf, dangling ear buds, glasses with thick, two-tone rims, black lug sole shoes, leaning forward between knees, F train)
09 three cups of tea, greg mortenson and david oliver relin (M, 20s, beard, navy jacket with epaulets over grey hoodie, messenger bag with knitted grey hat in pocket, red crocheted scarf, wire-rimmed glasses, bose headphones, F train)
10 let the great world spin, colum mccann (F, early 20s, chunky oatmeal-colored chullo hat with matching scarf, straight dark hair, green puffer, tan uggs, chambray dress, black leggings, A train)
11 in a sunburned country, bill bryson (F, early 20s, thin brown headband, long black braid, hooded black coat with black faux fur trim, red pashmina, periwinkle laptop bag, black hobo, F train)
12 the fall of the house of zeus, curtis wilkie (M, early 40s, brush cut, tan, hooded black down jacket, slush-marked brown lace-up boots, jeans, black messenger bag between feet, F train)
absorb what you can of these demographics; the next round's a guessing game.
01 why did i ever, mary robison (F, late 30s, coppery ribbed knit cap, pale skin, long hooded black puffer coat, mint green wellies, deep purple swiss army backpack at feet, F train)
02 the best american travel writing, bill buford ed., (F, late 20s, white knit hat with pink silk flower, black coat belted over black/white/yellow printed dress, black riding boots, black/blue batik print backpack, F train)
03 china: fragile superpower, susan l. shirk (M, late 30s, red eyebrows, tight grey cap, grey columbia face warmer pulled over nose, grey nylon messenger bag, narrow brown shoes, E train)
04 wuthering heights (twilight-branded cover), emily brontë (F, early 40s, black coat with high, gathered collar, long tan scarf with fur trim, bird shopping bag, black suede louis vuitton bag, F train)
05 richard yates, tao lin (F, late 20s, slightly cleft chin, gold-rimmed aviators, one padded black north face mitten, black patent shoulder bag in lap, floor-length black puffer coat, F train)
06 south side dreams, b.k. ray (M, 40s, black NY knit cap, black and white keffiyeh, bulky black puffer, cuffed jeans, tan work boots, 1 train)
07 franny and zooey, j.d. salinger (M, 20s, curly quiff, grey scarf, open black greatcoat, black leather turf shoes, giant green frame backback, E train)
08 hell's angels, hunter s. thompson (M, early 30s, carefully parted hair, bright red scarf, dangling ear buds, glasses with thick, two-tone rims, black lug sole shoes, leaning forward between knees, F train)
09 three cups of tea, greg mortenson and david oliver relin (M, 20s, beard, navy jacket with epaulets over grey hoodie, messenger bag with knitted grey hat in pocket, red crocheted scarf, wire-rimmed glasses, bose headphones, F train)
10 let the great world spin, colum mccann (F, early 20s, chunky oatmeal-colored chullo hat with matching scarf, straight dark hair, green puffer, tan uggs, chambray dress, black leggings, A train)
11 in a sunburned country, bill bryson (F, early 20s, thin brown headband, long black braid, hooded black coat with black faux fur trim, red pashmina, periwinkle laptop bag, black hobo, F train)
12 the fall of the house of zeus, curtis wilkie (M, early 40s, brush cut, tan, hooded black down jacket, slush-marked brown lace-up boots, jeans, black messenger bag between feet, F train)
absorb what you can of these demographics; the next round's a guessing game.
01.18.11: the dirty dozen {in which i make like coverspy and peep at subway riders and their books}
01 the girl who kicked the hornet's nest, stieg larsson* (F, 30s, black leather/suede moto jacket, fuzzy knitted headband, curly black hair, strident eyebrows, F train)
02 wolf hall, hilary mantel (M, 40s, high cheekbones, black wire-rimmed glasses, checked tweed driving cap with ear flaps, navy overcoat, extremely shiny black oxfords, F train)
03 the girl who played with fire, stieg larsson (F, 20s, belted green wool trench, crocheted orange scarf, highlighted bob, elfin nose, F train)
04 snow crash, neal stephenson (M, late 20s, royal blue anorak, dirty duck boots, short, spiky hair, five-day beard, F train)
05 freakonomics, steven d. levitt (F, 20s, straight blonde hair, black hooded puffer coat, black shoulder bag with gold hardware, dark-wash jeans, brown boots, L platform)
06 lord of the flies, william golding (F, teens, black ponytail, striped fingerless gloves, low pink all-stars, ipod, E train)
07 boy meets girl, meg cabot (F, 20s, knitted black beret, heavy bangs, puffer with black fur-lined hood, grey sweatpants, black uggs, E train)
08 american psycho, bret easton ellis (M, late 20s, patchy ginger beard, tortoiseshell glasses, blue striped oxford, grey hoodie, long grey pea coat, blue bose headphones, F train)
09 the white spider, heinrich harrer (M, late 30s, buddy holly glasses, short graying hair, black umbrella, black messenger bag, silver dive watch, F train)
10 the gate house, nelson demille (M, 60s, dozing, white hair, holding wire-rimmed glasses, burberry plaid scarf, maroon tie, black toggle coat, soft black attache case, B train)
11 girls like us, sheila weller (F, early 20s, curly pink hair, nose ring, jack skellington tote, purple tights, graffiti-covered wellies, ring with giant green stone, B train)
12 rebel without a crew, robert rodriguez (M, early 20s, red ski cap, glasses, black tee with green turntables, brooklyn sweatshirt, navy pea coat, white south american shoulder bag, F train)
01 the girl who kicked the hornet's nest, stieg larsson* (F, 30s, black leather/suede moto jacket, fuzzy knitted headband, curly black hair, strident eyebrows, F train)
02 wolf hall, hilary mantel (M, 40s, high cheekbones, black wire-rimmed glasses, checked tweed driving cap with ear flaps, navy overcoat, extremely shiny black oxfords, F train)
03 the girl who played with fire, stieg larsson (F, 20s, belted green wool trench, crocheted orange scarf, highlighted bob, elfin nose, F train)
04 snow crash, neal stephenson (M, late 20s, royal blue anorak, dirty duck boots, short, spiky hair, five-day beard, F train)
05 freakonomics, steven d. levitt (F, 20s, straight blonde hair, black hooded puffer coat, black shoulder bag with gold hardware, dark-wash jeans, brown boots, L platform)
06 lord of the flies, william golding (F, teens, black ponytail, striped fingerless gloves, low pink all-stars, ipod, E train)
07 boy meets girl, meg cabot (F, 20s, knitted black beret, heavy bangs, puffer with black fur-lined hood, grey sweatpants, black uggs, E train)
08 american psycho, bret easton ellis (M, late 20s, patchy ginger beard, tortoiseshell glasses, blue striped oxford, grey hoodie, long grey pea coat, blue bose headphones, F train)
09 the white spider, heinrich harrer (M, late 30s, buddy holly glasses, short graying hair, black umbrella, black messenger bag, silver dive watch, F train)
10 the gate house, nelson demille (M, 60s, dozing, white hair, holding wire-rimmed glasses, burberry plaid scarf, maroon tie, black toggle coat, soft black attache case, B train)
11 girls like us, sheila weller (F, early 20s, curly pink hair, nose ring, jack skellington tote, purple tights, graffiti-covered wellies, ring with giant green stone, B train)
12 rebel without a crew, robert rodriguez (M, early 20s, red ski cap, glasses, black tee with green turntables, brooklyn sweatshirt, navy pea coat, white south american shoulder bag, F train)
*tweet of the week: "Suspicious behavior on the L train this morning. Not one chick was reading 'The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.'#ifyouseesomethingsaysomething"
02.09.09: champions
i might be back to believing that breakfast is a capitalist lie: i ate oatmeal every morning for a week just now and gained three and a half pounds. where's the revolution in that? one might note that the scale at our gym appears to be broken (joe had the same gain), but still. what the eff, oatmeal.
i have switched over to eating puffins, which is much more icelandic anyway.
i might be back to believing that breakfast is a capitalist lie: i ate oatmeal every morning for a week just now and gained three and a half pounds. where's the revolution in that? one might note that the scale at our gym appears to be broken (joe had the same gain), but still. what the eff, oatmeal.
i have switched over to eating puffins, which is much more icelandic anyway.
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