I am unreasonably amused by this acquisition, found (with pre-customized neckline) yesterday at the reliably fabulous Rerun:

Here’s a better look at the design:

Does anybody recognize the artist? I really want there to be a lot of stories about these characters, because dachshund-riding badger, both with fetching headgear? Plus the smoking, to noir it up some? I don’t know if they fight crime or commit it, but either way, their adventures need to exist.

ETA: The astute Jenn Manley Lee tracked it down– looks like the design is by Jeremy Fish. Dear Mr. Fish, please provide some badger and dachshund adventures thank you.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

“I’ve noticed your progress,” said the nice woman at the gym this morning.

“Thank you so much!” I managed to reply, though I’d just been contemplating how slow my progress was. My squat sets had seemed much, much harder, even though I’d done them inside the squat cage instead of with free weights the way I’d been doing for the past few months. Surely, that should have made it easier, right?

Later I realized what I’d done. I’d loaded the bar with the amount of weight I was accustomed to — 70 pounds — but neglected to add in the weight of the bar itself.

Turns out the bar weighs 45 pounds.

I think often, when we try to assess our own progress — whether it’s on working out, writing, or anything else in our lives — we forget to include the weight of the bar, the bar being defined as everything else that affects our capacity to accomplish our goals.

So the next time you’re frustrated that your progress isn’t what you wish it would be, remember the weight of the bar. You might be surprised at how much you’re lifting.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

No, seriously. Stuffed animals, as in animals that are stuffed.

I am in a place where taxidermy is a primary theme of the decor. This is also part of the decor:

Indeed.

Despite the alarming preponderance of taxidermy, it is an inspirational place because of the company. I’m at the BG Literary annual client retreat. I’ve already had my brain readjusted in several useful ways, and I anticipate many more. On which note, I’ll return to retreating.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

This was one of my journals in junior high. I remember being impressed with its size, and with the fanciness of the gold-embossed cover. It made me feel like what I was going to write inside would be significant.

And it was a Borders journal. Surely if my journal was from a place where you could buy books, some mojo would derive from that, and what I wrote in it would be that much closer to having its own place on a bookstore shelf.

What I wrote in that journal was not significant, of course, to anyone but me, although I suppose I could at some point mine it for Mortified-style hilarity. But that’s not why I’m thinking about it.

I grew up in Ann Arbor when there was only one Borders. As I wrote here a few years back: There was an era when smokers could smoke inside. I remember reading Delia Ephron’s Teenage Romance: Or How To Die Of Embarrassment sitting on one of the wooden benches upstairs, at a time when I thought, daily, that I might. Later, when the Borders I knew had morphed into “Store One” during their first period of serious corporate expansion, a whole bunch of my friends worked there, and going to Borders became as much about visiting them as it was about browsing for new books.

And when I decided I needed to read more YA, it was the expertise of my Store One friends that put Weetzie Bat into my hands, which got me thinking, hard, about writing for teenagers.

I know, and many folks have written, that Borders went in some unfortunate directions over the years, but that doesn’t diminish how great it was at its best. Sympathies and good luck to all the smart and passionate booksellers who now need to find new jobs.

Worth reading:

• Help Ex-Borders Employees
• How To Work/Shop At A Liquidated Borders

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

The street asks these things.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

• I’ve gotten on the George R.R. Martin train — and yes, the HBO Game of Thrones adaptation is why, bravo most especially to Peter Dinklage. I’m also listening to the Roy Dotrice audiobooks. Huzzah for the type of narrative where the one thing you can depend on is This Won’t End Well.
• Misha Glouberman and Sheila Heti’s The Chairs Are Where The People Go: how to live, work, and play in the city. It’s hard to sum up what this book is about, so instead you can read a sample chapter, which is, in fact, about how to set up chairs for events.
• Stories Care Forgot: an anthology of New Orleans zines. I serendipitously found this right before actually going to New Orleans for ALA. It’s a really strong collection.
• It’s So You: 35 women write about personal expression through fashion and style, which I found at the very pleasing Palace of Industry.  
• Marian Call and The Doubleclicks. I saw them last night at Bridge City Comics. Comics shop hosting geeky musical performances: yes Portland yes.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

I’m indebted to the artist who put this up in my neighborhood. The gritted teeth, the grim expression — it’s like that, yeah.

You want your writing to process, like with Pomp and Circumstance and fancy outfits. But sometimes what you get is more like processed, as in meat, and you’re trying to assemble ill-favored scraps into something appetizing.

In other news, I’ve just changed web hosts, and a few things seem to have gone missing in the transition. If you’re looking for something on sararyan.com and you can’t find it, please to let me know.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

Almost compass roses:

Hypothesis: food coloring does not harm goldfish. At least one hopes that’s the case.

My previous photo post mysteriously vanished, so here are these, too:

Sometimes the view just looks like a comics panel:

Reflected clouds:

A Baron Von Fancy peach, considerably faded:

She’s floating:

Art:

Sporadic Internet for the next few days in the Usual Undisclosed Location. Hopefully this post will not mysteriously vanish also.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

Sometimes the view just looks like a comics panel.

Also I am a sucker for clouds reflected in puddles.

One of these, considerably faded:

My favorite thing about this one is the way it looks like she’s floating.

Art:

All from New Orleans.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.