A 1/1000 scale model of Sutro Tower, a San Francisco landmark mostly noted by locals. Metropolitan Craft, $30
(via Mark Allen)

(Some of) The best parts of Freedom by Jonathan Franzen:

“Merrie, who was ten years older than Patty and looked every year of it, had formerly been active with the SDS in Madison and was now very active in the craze for Beaujolais nouveau.”

“She was a grave and silent little person with the disconcerting habit of holding your gaze unblinkingly, as if you had nothing in common.”

“… there was something congenitally undefended about Patty’s heart — she never ceased to be shocked by the sister’s lack of sisterliness.”

“The more time she spent with him, the more she was coming to feel that even though she wasn’t nice — or maybe because she wasn’t nice; because she was morbidly competitive and attracted to unhealthy things — she was, in fact, a fairly interesting person. And Walter, by insisting so fervently on her interestingness, was definitely making progress toward making himself interesting to her in turn.”

“‘He wasn’t nice to me,’ she said through tears. ‘And you’re the opposite of that. And I so, so, so need the opposite of that right now. Can you please be nice?’
‘I can be nice,’ he said, stroking her head.”

“…she was fully aware, from second to second to second, that it wasn’t a drug or a dream but just life happening to her, a life with only a present and no past…”

“Walter himself had great compassion for people attempting to be funny, and laughed loudly to reward them for their effort, and yet he instantly knew he wanted to be friends with the tall, unsmiling person.”

“She had all day every day to figure out some decent and satisfying way to live, and yet all she ever seemed to get for all her choices and all her freedom was more miserable.”

“… he loved Patty in some wholly other way, some larger and more abstract but nevertheless essential way that was about a lifetime of responsibility; about being a good person.”

“Taking a cab to the city center, she was pierced unexpectedly by regret for… not walking the streets as an independent adult woman, not cultivating an independent life, not being a sensible and curious tourist instead of a love-chasing madwoman.”

“Walter was frightened by the long-term toxicity they were crating with their fights. he could feel it pooling in ther marriage like the coal-sludge ponds in Appalachian valleys.”

“The pedestrians in every neighborhood all seemed to have taken the same dowdiness pills. As if individual style were a volatile substance that evaporated in the vacuity of D.D.’s sidewalks and infernally wide squares.”

“These were the first seconds in which he’d ever experienced anything like coldness from her; and they were dreadful. What he’d never understood about men in his position, in all the books he’d read and movies he’d seen about them, was clearer to him now: you couldn’t keep expecting wholehearted love without, at some point, requiting it. There was no credit to be earned for simply being good.”

Vocabulary

sui generis – unique or particular, constituting a class alone

cicatrix – new tissue that forms over a wound and later contracts into a scar.

uric – of, concerning, or derived from urine

passerine – of, belonging, or pertaining to the order Passeriformes, comprising more than half of all birds and typically having the feet adapted for perching.

necromancy – a method of divination through alleged communication with the dead; black art.

fetor – strong, offensive smell

I’ve been following the comments on my link to the Dark Girls documentary over the last few days, and it has been an education for me. Excerpts from a few comments that I thought deserved more attention.

“…When I came to college, I was able to learn more about the history of Africa and learn about where my family comes from. I didn’t meet black guys who were interested in me which I thought came from me not being involved in a black sorority or in the Black Student Union. When I started to interact with other black students through work and volunteering, I still felt very separated from the “traditionally black” groups. Save for black girls with real (meaning really close) roots in Africa or the Caribbean (a girl whose parents are from Senegal and another whose roots are Native American and Haitian have been two friends I’ve made in the past four years) I’m dismissed by other black girls, too.

I feel guilty saying that it’s because of my dark skin color, because that discounts the fact that maybe I’m an awful person (and maybe I am!) or maybe our personalities don’t sync up. But, I’ve seen girls and boys who have ignored me in African American and African Studies classes excitedly interact with groups of friends I have who run the gambit in personalities but who represent the whitest end of the color spectrum. So, in four years, I’ve learned to draw conclusions.

It’s complicated and it’s a big deal, as evidenced by the little girl in the video who sees race as an indicator of intelligence and beauty, so it’s really hard for me to draw conclusions outside of the ones that I’ve made for myself.

It sounds so trite and Dove campaign-y but I love my skin. In my skin I see my grandmother, a woman I’ve only known in pictures; I see the skin of my ancestors, whom I’ve never seen but who I know looked like me. I see history and I am so lucky to be able to carry that around with me.” -Beatrice

“[On my camera,] I use the ‘lighter skin tone’ setting and flash, sickened by my preference for a lighter me…

The girl I babysit, a sweet, Caucasian girl of age seven, asked the other day, “Do you like having brown skin?”

I stuttered and said something along the lines of, “I guess,” ashamed that I was ashamed of something so natural and uncontrollable as the color of my skin, hating myself for hating myself.” From “Let us be colorful, darling” a post by Lamisa

“…I am Indian. My mother was light/fair skinned and my father was dark skinned. I inherited my father’s darker tones. My mother would scold me constantly for being in the sun and hated when I looked dark. She had stupid creams on me when I was little that would blister and burn my skin.” -Calypso

“You know what’s crazy? That a lot of white girls spend a ton of time and money trying to make their skin darker… Understand: I am in no way trying to say that it’s the same thing as the experience of dark-skinned women… But it just struck me, why are we all programmed to want to be different from how we are?” -Amy

“Wow…unfortunately, this brings back sad memories for me. As a dark skinned African American woman I too heard these comments throughout my life. My saving grace was my beloved grandfather who told me every day that I was beautiful and special and a gift from God. Because of his counter attack on all the negative comments, I grew to love my brown skin. Just goes to show that love can wipe away a multitude of sins.” -Dar

Dark Girls: Preview from Bradinn French on Vimeo.

Whoa, watch this please. Did you know how much of a difference it can make for a woman to be a slightly darker shade of black, at least in the U.S.? I had no idea, and I’m a little shocked. I mean, I’ve heard girlfriends mention it jokingly in passing when we’re talking about dating or whatever, but I didn’t get it until I watched this trailer. So upsetting. (via bb-blog).

I have a new post up at Lifescoop, Gear Up: Back to School Shopping for Grownups.

Kindergarteners are cute or whatever, but why should they get all the back-to-school fanfare? Reclaim the September ritual of starting fresh with new supplies for your work. Treating yourself is the best reason to grow up in the first place. Read more…