The new jam

Stuff I'm enjoying for summer

-Zinfandel (very hospitable to Cabernet enthusiasts)

-Wearing a T-shirt and khakis to work and putting on a sweater when I get there

-Curry and cayenne in my oatmeal. To literally spice things up

-Biking around DC. Bikeshare is here to stay

-Lightly dressed salad consisting only of cabbage, ginger, carrots, and capers. If you don't like raw cabbage yet you're missing a bet

-Saving lots of money and getting a nice tax deduction for IRA contributions

-T.B. Sheets: haunting when you know what it's about

-Making my own (everything)

-Rapid tomato growth

New Jersey in the morning like a lunar landscape

Live blog:

Sudden trip to NYC
Alex has business at the consulate
Solid bus with internet and power
New Jersey Turnpike
Rifling through iTunes favorite for Bruce Springsteen
1 Box of Whoppers already down
Radio relay towers won't you lead me to my baby
Raw Bruce of Nebraska days is wildly powerful
Sometimes you have to just drop everything and go to New York with a friend
Head full of patent law; excellent social science research papers downloaded from the web
Still very young

Capturing Moods

The joy of discovering an entire Rilo Kiley live album that I had never heard before. Includes the transcendent 'I Love LA' and a cover of 'Rock n' Roll Suicide. It did feel right. My attempt at capturing the feeling of having seen a band that broke up 5 years ago.

In our post-industrial Western democracy,

Cooking as career seems counter-intuitive. Too much striving and slaving for something that ought to be magical and exciting. To prove my point, I'm making curry while I write this post. To wit, I already made rice pilaf this evening. It was simple, enjoyable, and gave me the thrill of the chemistry experiment I never knew how to do. Why beat all the fun out of that activity? This will have to be one of the places where I stand on simplicity.

When I feel like a juggler runnin' out of hands

It will be written down on a piece of paper and shuffled on a desk, meaningfully shuffled, but shuffled, forgotten except in case of a persistent person who needs something from you. She will shuffle too, to the kitchen for a quick 30 minutes. Something in us that abhors work, so we feel entitled not to do it, even while they're paying us to be here. American workers, too smart for their own jobs. Fixing, scheming, faintly conniving always to get a little bit ahead. Of themselves, really. But what would be the fun in doing something you're perfectly well qualified for, or never lying a little about what you're able to do? I have told happy, ambitious lies to employers, or tried to get them to let me do so. I have made myself out to be a fully qualified professional copyeditor. I have overstated, drawn false analogies, and talked past my inadequacies. I'm no better than anyone else.

I used to live in Nashville

I love driving at night by myself. The road stretches out forever, inviting you to stay on board. Just drive on. The driving is the easy part. It's where you've been and where you're going that cause trouble.