Last night I went into New York City to see Helen Oyeyemi because I had seen good snippets of her on the internet and, a few weeks ago, I understood that I needed to do something that wasn’t school or work. I read White is for Witching this week in preparation, besides the last twenty pages, which I just finished. I didn’t realize it was a frightening book when I picked it up, and I said so to Helen Oyeyemi, and she threw her head back and laughed, and I told her that I wouldn’t have kept going if it hadn’t been so beautifully written (it is). She said (into the microphone, earlier, not to me as a secret) that the book gave her nightmares as she wrote it. She has a small, soft voice, at odds with the prose she produces. She wore a pretty, pale blue pointelle sweater with a Peter Pan collar, which had gotten in Barcelona, on her book tour (she did not say that into the microphone).
Terry came too and let me stay at his house and this morning we made breakfast and he fixed us coffee in his Chemex, which is quite a process let me tell you, and walked me to the train, which I took to see username inanely, who gave me a tour of Brooklyn (Williamsburg???) that left me much less sour about New York as a city, although still unconvinced that it’s a real place. There is an enormous flea market with expensive secondhand goods and new made things, many things I would have liked to buy because Williamsburg appears to be finely calibrated to people who are like me but less self-conscious and with much more money, and so much food, incredible food, hip food. There is chocolate and yoga (can you believe those signs but I think they MEAN it) and coffee and boutiques. A sketchbook library! Moleskines with doodles in them, a whole big room full! And she just knew where all this stuff was! I got pad Thai from a truck. It was covered in powdered peppers and my lips burned for an hour but it was delicious. And then I got the second-to-last Dun-Well donut—vegan donut—of the whole day and it was wonderful, soft and lightly sweet, and I want to try another soon. And on the train to Grand Central were a bunch of teens being loud, one with a tenor voice like an angel. A girl caught me staring but apologized for looking at me, said I had nice eyes. She may have been making fun of me for staring. I said, I’m staring at y’all because if I had a voice like that I’d be singing on the train too, and she said, Don’t tell him! and I said, I won’t tell him, and she laughed. Alright, New York, alright, I guess is what I’m saying.
Teju Cole, "Teju Cole: By The Book" A New York Times Q&A, March 6, 2014 (via jalylah)
NYT: What books are you embarrassed not to have read yet?
TEJU COLE: I have not read most of the big 19th — century novels that people consider “essential,” nor most of the 20th-century ones for that matter. But this does not embarrass me. There are many films to see, many friends to visit, many walks to take, many playlists to assemble and many favorite books to reread. Life’s too short for anxious score-keeping. Also, my grandmother is illiterate, and she’s one of the best people I know. Reading is a deep personal consolation for me, but other things console, too.
On my way to New York. I forgot my phone cord. I am very tired. (Metro North - West Haven Station)
I’ll read it to you, because I know you’re tired.my professor handed out the final assignment and nobody argued with her logic
The last time I got Indian takeout I asked the man at the desk, who felt like the owner, what options I had on the vegetarian menu with no dairy, and he became very excited and pointed out all the options with no dairy or only a little cream to finish and told me over and over that all I had to do was say No dairy or add a note to that effect for online orders and gave me a takeout menu with the best choices marked in sharpie like it was highlighter, which is all backstory for how I just did that, got chana saag with a note that says “no dairy! thank you!” and the color was very slightly different but it was so good, my palate can’t really tell, it was SO GOOD, I’m so happy.
So if I’m reading you right, this could use more perspectives from PoC. In which case, they should really give that fairly rad title to a book that deserves it.
The last chapter lays it down and there are hints of it in previous chapters; we’re going to talk about in class today and I’m going to ask what the deal is with keeping it til the end. I dunno.
Looks like a compelling read?
A huge portion of the book is a thorough review with critique of the major strands of (white) feminist theology as it stood in 1989, which is probably only compelling to some, honestly.
I literally cannot believe that you’re being this coy about race LOOK AT YOUR TITLE
Forget cat cafes. Or black cat cafes. Or penguin bars. Japan’s latest novelty cafe is the “fukurou cafe” (フクロウカフェ), or the “owl cafe.”
Owl cafes like Fukurou no Mise (“Owl Shop”) and Tori no Iru Cafe (“The Cafe with Birds”) started getting noticed online in Japan late last year.
This summer saw more owl cafes open, and currently there are owl cafes like Fukurou Sabou (“Owl Teahouse”) in Tokyo, Owl Family in Osaka, and Crew, another owl cafe in Osaka, among others.
omg must go live here o.o
In case anyone wondered what it’s like to be my roommate
For not giving my week a structure besides schoolIndictment of the Parents Who Didn’t Take Me to Church, by J.D. Smith, at Killing the Buddha
and its poorly hidden rehearsal for work.
For letting me learn to fidget in an audience
and walk out on hearing nothing of use;
For teaching me to judge singers by their notes and not their thoughts,
for seeing next to nothing in stained glass.
For not showing me how to navigate a congregation of handshakes
without sweating and breathing fast.
For failing to bestow on me my birthright,
a tradition to reject.
I'm Bailey, a small girl from a small town. I lived a year in Kyoto and I graduated from college in Chicago in 2010. I lived in Boston for almost two years but it was a wash. I moved back to Chicago in May 2012 to rebuild from the ground up. I am in a Master's of Divinity program at a frou frou East Coast university. I say "y'all." I like beautiful things, funny things, photography, Japan, and emoticaps. Left-leaning politics, left-leaning theology, vegan cooking, dresses. My friends call me Etsuko because I was named Etsuko when I started learning Japanese. You write it like 悦子 and it is a very good name.