For the first time, the words "I can't believe we don't get ESPN 3" were uttered in our apartment.

We don't really watch sports. I grew up watching football, and I'll put on Packers games from time to time, but otherwise we don't watch any sports. (Well, besides the Superbowl, but watching the Superbowl doesn't make you a sports person, it just makes you an American person.) So the lack of ESPN 3 has never come up. But today it did, because next week is the National Spelling Bee.

You will probably all find it unsurprising that I love spelling bees. Watching them, being in them. I watch the national spelling bee every single year. It is so entertaining! Kind of sad, looking at those Asperger's-ridden home-schooled kids who can't function in society, but the drama of it all, not to mention all that spelling, wow. I can't resist. Even though I hate the way people succeed at spelling bees. Even though I wish we taught spelling and language in a fundamentally different way. Even though I don't think writing things out on palms should be permitted. Even though I am utterly opposed to transliterated words without accepted transliterated spellings being tested. Even though all those things, it's just so entertaining. So entertaining! I would watch spelling bees every week if they were on.

Growing up without cable, I was only ever able to watch the hour or two they'd televise on ABC, the very end of the finals when there are only a handful of kids left anyway. This is the first year I have had cable in my entire life. You know what that means: I'm watching the whole fucking bee.

Except, I'm not, because we only get ESPNs 1 and 2. Not 3. No ESPN 3. (Also no ESPN 8 The Ocho.) So no preliminaries for me. Just semifinals and finals.

Can I say, by the way, how much I love that the National Spelling Bee is on ESPN? In Arizona, the state spelling bee is only on PBS. I still watched it. I was, one year, the number six speller in the state of Arizona. I'm sure that doesn't surprise any of you, either

(The word that knocked me out was "tabacosis," the medical term for tobacco poisoning. I spelled it "tobacosis," assuming the same spelling for the schwa in the first syllable of each word. Wrong, wrong, wrong.)

I've talked about this before: "Say I’m the only bee in your bonnet"  Come Thursday, I will probably talk about it again. Our TV will be tuned to ESPN, probably for the first time, and I will be glued to the sofa, probably eating something delicious or drinking a glass of wine, squinting so I don't see the spelling of the assigned words, complaining to my boyfriend about all the ways I would make spelling bees better.

Sigh. I kind of love being a nerd.
 

Is it weird that whenever I read about a character named Moriarty, I assume he or she will be evil?

I'm reading The Summer We Read Gatsby by Danielle Ganek, and the narrator's sister is named Peck Moriarty. I am certain she is going to turn out to be bad news. Bad, bad news. Her last name is Moriarty, for crying out loud! I know, just know, criminality is lurking.

I haven't read anything great lately. The Monsters of Templeton was okay. Swamplandia! was okay (and I should write about it, because I know Cathy read it, and I have some views on how it succeeded and failed, and it might spark interesting discussion). The Man from Primrose Lane started out phenomenal and fell apart toward the end. Annabel was awful.

Any suggestions?

I have four dashboard sticky notes full of books to get from the library, plus two more with books I wanted to read but the library here doesn't have. It's not like I need suggestions. But I'm constantly trawling for them. Constantly. It's pretty much the only reason I ever click through to Salon -- sometimes they have interesting book reviews. I literally had to stop clicking on the "Recommendations" button on LibraryThing because I ran out of room to write new books down.

But, you know, I always need suggestions. I'm off to the library again this Sunday. I just want to read something great.

Preferably not starring anyone named Moriarty, I suppose.
 

Despite it being overcast to the point of sheer darkness all day today -- thanks, thunderstorms! -- my plant babies are doing okay. Thankfully, because I love them.

The storms were so bad today that despite my umbrella, I was soaked from my toes to my mid-thighs on my walk to work today. Cold and wet all day at work: not exactly a recipe for a peppy day. I left at 4:30, sneakers still wet, feeling like shit. I put the heating pad on my feet when I got home, but I still feel just ick. Ick ick ick.

So, naturally, it was one of those nights where you come home and snack through dinner. I had some sesame almonds, some goat milk yogurt with honey, some refried beans with pico de gallo and jalapenos on top, a piece of dark chocolate, and half of a cran-raspberry seltzer. You must all have nights like this, too, right? I am not the only one who gets too tired to cook and looks at the refrigerator like it's a buffet.

I wish I knew if it were better to do that (given that my fridge is mostly full of healthy things) or actually cook something, nutrition-wise. After all, tonight's dinner was pretty solidly on the healthy side. Possibly better than shrimp and grits, which I was planning to make (although it is worth noting that my shrimp and grits are quite healthy, minus the empty carbs of delicious, delicious grits).

Mondays, am I right?
 

Got herbs to grow inside the apartment: parsley, cilantro, oregano, sweet mint and lavender.

The place looks instantly brighter with those five little planters in front of the west-facing windows.

(Although I will say that I feel like a serious adult, going to Home Depot on a Sunday. Wow.)
 

This entry is going to make me sound like an old person, or a hipster, or an old person hipster, but I'm going for it.

So this exists: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sv6dMFF_yts&ob=av2e

I heard this song on the radio this morning on the way to work, and I thought, "Damn, this new band sounds so much like The Format, except kind of worse!" So tonight, I looked it up, and it was a double damn, because in the very first frame I said, "Damn, Nate Ruess looks so old!"

Because it is him! And the band is, precisely, The Format except kind of worse!

The Format was phenomenal. They soundtracked a lot of my high school years. And, let's be real, I still listen to their songs on my iTunes all the time. All. The. Time. Their music was phenomenal. Their first album had such an Arizona-specific feel, while their second album was all about what it felt like to get out of Arizona. Hmm, know anyone who might relate to those things?

I love The Format. I miss them. I didn't know that Nate Ruess had a new (not as good) band. I am delighted for him! He has a #1 single, and from the sound of it, he is substantially less depressed than he used to be. (Perhaps because he moved from Glendale to New York City?) The song isn't terrible. It's kind of catchy. But it's definitely not Format quality. Not even a little.

But you know what, Nate Ruess? You rock. I would have thought that regardless of you having a #1 single, but good for you! I think any number of your Format singles could have been hits. They were hits with me. If you had to dumb down your lyrics a little to be famous, that's your choice. I don't begrudge you that. Especially since I still caught that beautiful Format-esque line about "the holes in my apologies." You still got it, by the way, if you want to reform The Format. But if you don't -- if you want to be "fun." and make a zillion dollars with a dumb band name -- that's your right.

There's a small place in my musical history of heartbreak that The Format only put out two albums. But you know what? Those two albums have gotten me through a lot, happy and sad, and I'm glad that your unique sound and voice are getting the recognition I've thought you deserved from the very beginning, when I was cruising down the 202 and heard your lyric about being stuck on the 51.

Just as long as no one tells me that "fun." is better than The Format, because then I would have to punch him or her and say, "No one likes Wings better than The Beatles!"




Documentation of Format love:
"Pick Me Up" 
"She Doesn't Get It" 
"Dog Problems" 
"It's the only way we think to get ahead." 
"transcendental" 
"Nine Days: Something To Listen To" 
 

I have this apparently? http://www.webmd.com/oral-health/guide/temporomandibular-disorders

I went to the doctor. She was more equivocal than WebMD, saying that it frequently just pops up and causes pain and you have to wait it out. It either goes away on its own or you have it forever. Promising... not. Treatment: heat, Advil, avoid chewing chewy things. Yeah, like I can chew anything. I mostly eat soup and tofu and scrambled eggs for breakfast, because there's no chewing -- just rubbing the food with my tongue and swallowing.

Hahaha TMJ TMI.

For real, though, this is the worst. This is so much the worst that I am considering acupuncture, since (a) there is literally no treatment for this and (b) sticking a needle in my jaw does not sound worse than what is currently happening.

The thing that blows is that I am not clenching my jaw or grinding my teeth (I never have, and there's no evidence of it in my teeth now), or chewing gum (or chewing anything!), or doing anything that I could just stop and cure it.

BOO.

So anyway, I am impatient and annoyed all the time, not to mention hungry. So very, very hungry.
 

So, here's a pop quiz:

1. When was the last time you were catcalled in the street?
2. When was the second-to-last time you were catcalled in the street?
3. What about the time before that?

Answer:
1. Today! At lunch! In Manhattan! By a construction worker who reached his hand out, so that I had to walk all the way to the other side of the sidewalk, by traffic, to avoid it.
2. This morning! On my way to work! In Manhattan! By a homeless man who asked me if I would like to give him a blow job.
3. Yesterday! At lunch! In Manhattan! By a teenage hoodlum who peeked out from under his doorag (when did skinny white guys start wearing doorags?) to size me up.

But I was probably asking for it, you know, since I was wearing a winter coat and tennis shoes. How dare I walk around in the city like I work there? How dare I exist in public with breasts? I should know better!

Barf.
 

A couple blocks from my work, there is a Hello Kitty store. That's all it sells: Hello Kitty paraphernalia.

It is, unsurprisingly, in Koreatown.

There is a big sign out front saying that they prohibit pictures or videorecordings of the storefront. You know, in case you wanted to prove to other people that they do, actually, exist.

They do, though. I saw it. There is enough Hello Kitty crapola in the world to fill an entire store.

I'd say "only in Manhattan," but I'm sure this exists in Korea, too.
 

Got your attention?

Headed to Florida tonight, Tampa then Miami. Nowhere near the beach, and let's face it, when you're working ten hour days starting at 8:30 in the morning, you aren't doing much partying the night before. So not spring break, and not shark attack. But still Florida.

See you Thursday!
 

So I started reading The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. You've probably heard of it: there was buzz all last year before it came out, and in fact it had the largest advance for a debut novel in all of 2011. It bridges that nice world between historical fiction and magical realism, but not terrible magical realism like The Uncoupling, don't worry.

I've had it on my to-read list for a while, waiting for it to show up on the library shelves. Last week, it did.

I'm about 100 pages in right now, from train rides this morning and tonight and half of my lunch hour this afternoon. I figured I would give it a shot before this weekend, since I only have a day and a half before leaving for a business trip to Florida, and I wanted to see if it's worth lugging with me on the plane. Now, I think I might read too much of it before getting on the plane to justify the space in my carry-on.

This is the thing: it's not a great book. The writing is choppy in places and clunky in others (though I suppose not as clunky as your usual present-tense narrative), and there is a weirdly high number of pointless comma splices (which is to say, astylistic comma splices, assuming you subscribe to the theory that a comma splice can be stylistic, which I personally do not*). And on every page, I just think I'm reading The Prestige.

I can't say that The Night Circus is derivative, because I haven't read The Prestige, only seen the movie. But it's all there: the dueling magicians, the fact that their illusions are real (sorry, spoiler alert, but that movie came out like five years ago), the dark setting at the turn of the industrial age.

So why do I like it? I don't really know. The places where it isn't clunky, the writing is solid. The plot is interesting, if not original, and I really do care about what is going to happen. I enjoyed it so much on my train ride in that I lugged it along with me to lunch, instead of listening to the second half of Hunger Games 3. (So far: better than Hunger Games 2, not nearly as good as Hunger Games 1.) This is impressive, considering that the book is enormous and my iPod Nano is tiny. But I did. I lugged. And I read, and read, and read, until my banh mi sandwich was ready. (Luu's Baguette, 26th Street: best banh mi I've had in New York City.)

The sandwich was so phenomenal that I didn't read much after that. So, to recap: Hunger Games 3 < The Night Circus < banh mi sandwich. But that's unfair to poor Erin Morgenstern. Not many books can pull someone away from a perfectly-made banh mi.

Has anyone else read this book? Can I expect something different from The Prestige in the coming chapters? A deus ex machina like in the movie?

(I recently read a new release called Deus Ex Machina. LibraryThing predicted I would love it. I did not.)




*For me, a run-on or a fragment can be stylistic, but I have never in my life seen a "stylistic" comma splice that worked. Never. Nor can I imagine a theoretical case in which it would be necessary or even better than properly punctuated sentences.