It's very very cold.
Heavy jackets for everyone!
Ryan and I have already gone out and purchased ours. We both had settled on H&M winter wear. His is a lot more classy than mine, but I want something more utilitarian. Heavy and thick.
I've been spending my time between Raymond Carver and Dostoevsky. Both great. Erin and I are only going to read Russian authors for winter, which I think is a great idea. It leads me to ask questions: which authors would be good for Spring? or for Fall? I think there are certain feelings music gives you that correspond with the weather and the time of year, literature has to. Anyone have good ideas send them here.
I've been working a lot of overnights at work- shelving, setting up displays, watching homeless people mill around Penn Station- and it makes me think that I'm Andrew McCarthy and I'm in that movie Mannequin. Except the books don't mysteriously come alive and I don't have sex with them. And no Hollywood Montrose.
Last thing. Erin has bought us great seats for the Magnetic Fields show that was already SOLD OUT a week ago. How great is that. I literally shed a tear like a girl. Then I listened to a bunch of Fucked Up and wanted to hate things. But still, greatest gift ever, and it's not even until February.
