'Eeeee' is the Name of a Tao Lin Book or the Uncomfortable Sound You Make When Speaking With Him

Dear Tao Lin (Who Is So Weird and Extremely Difficult to Have a Conversation With):

I went to your reading last week (or maybe it was the week before—I've been busy!) at my friend N.'s writing workshop. I was hanging out by the table with the free booze (to be opened afterward the reading) when you walked by.

Me: Hey, I think we met before.
You respond with a blank stare, like I am making this up.
Me: You know, at the reading with J. last year. We had dinner afterwards.
You respond with a blank stare, like I am making this up.
Me: Well, I mean, *we* didn't have dinner, like, together. There were other people there!
You: Where was the reading?
Me: At Galapagos.
You: I didn't eat dinner that night.
Me (now annoyed): Yes, you did! At Anytime? There were five or six of us. Around a table. With food. And J.—remember J.?

Then you asked me if there was somewhere on the table where you could sell your book. And I was like, I don't work here. Maybe after that you said something again about not eating that night after Galapagos, so maybe you meant that you were at the dinner but didn't eat. Maybe you don't remember, period. Usually if I don't remember something, I'd blame it on alcohol. But I seem to remember you saying that you don't even drink! And yet! Immediately after the reading, with all that free booze, you and your pal came up to the table, announced that you were leaving, and ASKED TO TAKE HOME A BOTTLE OF WINE! What?! Who asks that? My friend N. looked at me, and even though I have nothing to do with anything, I shook my head No. Then N. said, "You can take some beers," and your friend stuffed some beers in his backpack. I think you grabbed one or two. I don't get you. And if I see you again, I will stare down at my feet until you pass by.

Sincerely,
Lorem Ipsum

Last Night I Went to That Williamsburg 'Bowling Alley'

Why don't they just call it a waiting room and get over the false advertising? Nice bar, by the way. Great drinks, friendly bouncer, nice decor; you can check it out here. But! My friend N. got there around 8 p.m. to reserve a lane for our group. They told her there was a three-hour wait. I got there around 9:30, followed by the rest of our crew. We had a ticket (like the kind you get when you're in line at the bakery or meat counter) that said No. 29. When I arrived, the red digital number board (overhead) said 5. An hour later, it said 6. By 11 p.m., I believe it said 11, but I had been drinking all evening at this point, so my recollection becomes slightly less reliable.

The point being—there was no bowling to be had. Maybe my friends finally got to bowl. They were waiting it out when I left. I think they were on No. 20 when I walked out the door, sleepy, looking forward to home. Perhaps weeknights are a bit luckier at Gutter?

Image above of people who are not me bowling at the Gutter, from Shecky's.

The Gutter

Nothing Says 'I Love You!' Like a Dead Man Holding a Crocodile

Valentines with tattoos now available (99 cents) at the Goodwill store, corner of Bond & Livingston streets, downtown Brooklyn. Hurry up; they've only got a handful left!

File Under: Things That Are Super Cute

Bigfoot: I Not Dead by Graham Romieu
Coming from Plume, April 2008

I've only read a few pages of the advance copy I found, but it cracked me up. Can't vouch for the whole thing, and humor books (I'm not usually so much a fan) often get old after the first few pages; but even if the book doesn't rock, how can you not love the adorable cover?

Fun Conversations with My Mom

Fun Conversations with My Mom is an occasional series on Lorem Ipsum. I love my mom more than anything, but sometimes she says funny things!

Phone conversation, Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Me: Did you hear about Heath Ledger?
Mom: No!
Me: It's awful. He died. They found him in Soho.
Mom: Oh my god! That guy from the Rolling Stones?
Me: No, Heath Ledger; he was a really great actor. You would know him from Brokeback Mountain.
Mom (off phone, to friend): Do you know who Keith Ledger is?

Today in Brooklyn=Loveliest Day Ever

Even though this tree looks slightly ominous in my camera-phone picture (taken in Fort Greene Park), it really was the best day ever. Look at that cloudless sky!

Amazon.com Goes Goth for V-Day

Amazon.com is circulating an e-mail filled with Valentine's Day gift ideas. Depending on your relationship with the giftee, you can choose a colored heart to suggest a gift. There's your typical red, pink, even a pure white, and black -- cute, Amazon!

Who knew that America's best-known online bookseller was so full, of, well, hate? Click on the black heart, and you'll see gift options for that person you just love to despise. Example: A 5-inch "realistic" rat. Here are some other helpful suggestions from Amazon:

1. A book called All About Scabs
2. A pig costume
3. An acne-treatment system
4. A book called Shut Up, Stop Whining, and Get a Life
5. A book called When Love Dies (this is actually a rather ingenious way to suggest to a loved one that things "just aren't working out"
6. A tick-removal tool
7. Alli weight loss supplement
8. Rogaine for Men
9. Wolf urine lure
10. Ex-lax

So, everyone, don't rush at once! If the past is any indication, I can hopefully expect to receive the weight-loss supplement from my mother.

Irish Not Too Drunk To Come Up With a Good Idea

It's OK, I'm part Irish; we're allowed to make fun of ourselves! But let's not digress: Last summer, Whole Foods was selling those "I'm Not a Plastic Bag" bags, which people were supposed to use for groceries -- in order to save plastic bags. That idea obviously didn't work.

The Irish, however, got it right. The New York Times explains that Ireland in 2002 placed a 33-cent tax on each plastic bag that a customer receives at a store. You could request plastic and pay for it, or bring your own bag for free:

Within weeks, plastic bag use dropped 94 percent. Within a year, nearly everyone had bought reusable cloth bags, keeping them in offices and in the backs of cars. Plastic bags were not outlawed, but carrying them became socially unacceptable — on a par with wearing a fur coat or not cleaning up after one’s dog.

Why hasn't such a policy been instituted in America? Or at least in NYC? As I think I've said before, up to a trillion plastic bags end up in a landfill each year. And, as National Geographic puts it:

As a result, the (plastic) totes are everywhere. They sit balled up and stuffed into the one that hangs from the pantry door. They line bathroom trash bins. They carry clothes to the gym. They clutter landfills. They flap from trees. They float in the breeze. They clog roadside drains. They drift on the high seas. They fill sea turtle bellies.

If that sea turtle line doesn't get ya, then nothing will. I'm not saying that I never use plastic bags, but I've definitely cut down on my use. Even my Republican mother bought me cloth bags from her local Florida supermarket!