Thursday, March 17, 2011

Voyage into the Drafts folder. Inspired – as so many absurd things are – by Adam 1.0's journey into the archives, I have decided to revisit some of my forgotten draft blog posts, most of them justifiably forgotten.

Over the entire life of this blog, there were only 18 drafts. Some are drafts because I ended up publishing them elsewhere. Others I think I might resurrect. Others are just boring, like me noodling on about True Blood in the same vein as my noodlings about Terminator Salvation.

Here are the rest, plus some bonus tweets that I never sent due to my wireless coverage dropping out!!

Unsent tweet:
If you've got a craving to eat pencil erasers, order the mushrooms at Mario's.

Abandoned blog post, 1 December 2010
My Hollywood Babylon dream. I just had this dream before. I was Bret Easton Ellis

Unsent tweet:
Who does Matthew McConaughey think he's fooling in that ad with the tux? We all know he'd rather have been shirtless.

Abandoned blog post, 26 July 2008
On the prom. Last night was the final Is Not Magazine party - Is Not Senior Prom. This theme was my idea. I've often worried about the way we fetishised Americanness at the magazine. Of course, Jeremy has always traded personally and professionally on the cosmopolitan glamour of being from America - and within that, being from New York, and within that, Brooklyn. Even though he is actually from Long Island. (Incidentally, while I know Jeremy is well aware of the cultural capital he possesses simply by an accident of birth, I wonder if he deliberately exploits the beguiling effect of his voice and way of speaking. It was certainly what I always liked best about him, and even now it's still a pleasure to listen to.)

Unsent tweet:
Baby baby baby/You are my voodoo child/My voodoo child

Abandoned blog post, 11 February 2008
Howard's Storage World. It was only because he was not the sort of man to make a fuss that Howard said nothing. Inside, if he cared to scrutinise his feelings - and he didn't really, Howard was not that sort of man - he was filled with impatient rage.

It was the shoes mainly. Maryanne had a habit of leaving her shoes wherever they were kicked off. Work pumps lurking under the kitchen table; slippers hiding coyly under the armchair. But she would also take off a jumper and leave it on the couch - for days and days and days - as though she were happy for it stay there forever. There had been a pair of her earrings sitting on a windowsill for two years now. Sometimes Howard found Maryanne's shucked underpants in the bathroom. That was not cool.

Then there were the plastic food packets on the shelves, folded carelessly over or even left open for moths to get in or the contents to grow stale. Dirty plates piled haphazardly in the sink, filled with scummy water. Random papers - bills, receipts, flyers, mail for previous occupants Howard had never met - littering the table.

When it really started to get to him, Howard liked to go to his shed and sit in an old cane chair. He did not have to move things off it in order to sit down, as he had to do elsewhere in the house.( There was one chair in the bedroom so comprehensively draped with Maryanne's clothes that tidying them away felt almost obscene, like a strip-search.)

Unsent tweet:
I was shopping for a full length mirror, hoping to pay about $20. Got one for $11.40 which is officially a 'nice price'!

Abandoned blog post, 26 July 2007
On shithouse metaphors. It's like I gave him my t-shirt and he's like, "All right, you're awesome, I'll put that in my t-shirt drawer," only I'm like, "Now I'm naked and humiliated, and also, that wasn't a t-shirt, it was my heart."

It occurs to me just now that the t-shirt analogy was a poor one.

Unsent tweet:
Just saw a dude riding a motorbike in the rain wearing shorts and thongs. The definition of not giving a shit.

Abandoned blog post, 4 January 2006
Fashion trends that took me by surprise in 2005.

1. Big wooden beads.

2. The persistence of boho.


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