I forgot to mention that Ephemera Now is officially Plan 59, and they no longer require you to be a beret-wearing art director to browse. This is my dream house, provided it compacts itself down to suitcase size so I can throw it in the trunk and skeedaddle during monsoon season. Still...item 4 for extended ranting.
Thursday Means Yummy Pot Luck!
1) I haven't thought that the Dan Brown trial would amount to much, but I am interested that his hitherto uncredited wife Blythe, conveniently an art historian, seems to be the engine behind much of the research and content of the Da Vinci Code. Perhaps she prefers anonymity, but if D.B. later finds a 23-year old Associate Editor who really "understands him," she may regret her low profile.
2) Many widows feel better in 6 months. It's astounding how many years it's taken for people with decent coping skills and an appreciation for the good they've gotten from life to convince the psychological profession they aren't unfeeling monsters or in dangerous denial.
3) A lovable pooch helps swing the sale of a house and stays with the new owners. I consider my own dogs property-pushing cute, but I rent.
4) Finishing the MSNBC real estate links, here's a story about what a million will buy housewise in various parts of the country. In the Northeast, Manhattan is only second to Suffolk County in price bloat. Here, property prices have risen 53% in the last three years and people at local median income can't afford about 90% of the property. Here's the 5,000 square foot tropical manse you can still get in South Florida for a cool stick. In Manhattan, here's the 2-bed/2-bath with parquet veneer and motel-style HVAC you can get for the same, but it has a bonus terrace and a $2400 monthly maintenance. Such a deal.
5) The incandescent Simon Doonan remembers when being a tranny was a good time. I remember when lots of stuff in today's diagnosis-laden, hypergrim, smell-my-victimhood chic was fun and funny. Nowadays, it seems people can't be outrageous at all without pitifully self-destructing. How I've mourned the lingering Death of Eccentricity.
No comments:
Post a Comment