it’s like you’re a bird and you’re flying

from the june 13 dispatch of new york today about coney island’s new roller coaster:

A new roller coaster opens in Coney Island on Saturday.

The Thunderbolt is a skinny orange tangle of loops and corkscrews nearly half a mile long, featuring a 115-foot plunge and a tummy-turning series of inversions.

So when I was offered a test ride, I said what any sane person would:

“No way.”

But I found someone to take my place: my 9-year-old daughter.

In the chill of Wednesday evening in nearly deserted Luna Park, Violet, her friend Emmett, also 9, and his father were locked into the bright red seats.

The ride looked unfinished. The car behind them was occupied by crash dummies. The padded headrests had not been installed yet.

“Do not put your head back during the ride,” Luna Park’s photographer said. “I don’t want you to have an unpleasant experience.”

“Let me out!” Violet yelled.

Too late. The car inched away slowly, straight up, riders facing the sky. Over the brink, and the screams got louder.

Zoom, swish, slam, zoom, spin, and it was over.

Violet was breathless but not speechless.

“It’s like you’re a bird and you’re flying but then someone shoots you and you’re falling and then someone gives you the Golden Fleece which makes you alive even if you’re dead and then you’re flying and jumping and flying and jumping and then you land on a branch. Woohoohoohooo I’m alive!”

sky as bruise

NO FILTER

madame

marlon wobst, madame, 2014

(courtesy of artsy)

grinch communist

had grouch hangover this morning because ross was kind of a communist grinch about making a dog trucker hat prototype with me (“there’s already too much crap in the world”) (“i guess i would help you”) even though we had talked about it and been joking the night before. truthfully, my excitement wasn’t about the actual product (listen, i have ZERO ILLUSIONS about the junkiness of dog novelty items) (TOTAL LIE! secret fantasy is to make a billion dollars selling dog novelty items, DUH), but the idea of crafting one single dog trucker hat prototype, together, and the hilarity of placing said prototype on dog, and watching said dog wear — enjoy?! protect his eyes?! — said prototype? can it be beat? i guess it hurt my feelings that it was no longer, WHAT A HILARIOUS ADVENTURE WE COULD CRAFT TOGETHER and more like, YOU CAN DO IT BUT YOU WILL BE JUST CONTRIBUTING STRAIGHT JUNK TO THE UNIVERSE, ENJOY THAT. but let’s face it, is it just about the dog trucker hats. probably not. ross is going to this wedding at the end of august that i can’t afford to go to, where the bride’s sister is his old unrequited flame, no big deal but also jeez, not my dream sitch. and my sister’s wedding is two weeks after, in florida, and he suggested just going to my sister’s wedding directly from chicago, so staying there TWO WEEKS, even though i’ve already bought the tickets to florida from el paso, which means we’d have to change them, and this el paso-to-panama-city flight is the first plane ride we’ll ever have taken together in 3.91 years and i was excited about it, but southwest is flexible and you CAN change it, so i guess if that’s what the human wants to do, that’s what he should do? and if the tables were turned and i was trying to finagle a way to stay in austin for two weeks, i wouldn’t want my babe to NOT want me to do that? but the point is just general stress. just wondering why the man wants to be out all the time and why do nice people always have to ask about us getting married and i’m like, HA HA NO NO AS IF, and what is going to happen to me with work and will i have to work at the railyards and will i ever get to marinate and just spread out and be my best relaxed self? so. some general worrying going on. woke up this morning with the worst clenched jaw, which can’t be good. even though i’m meditating and doing yoga every morning (i.e., past two mornings), still it doesn’t stop with the clenching. can you unclench an iron pipe?

From three to four, he planned to stand perfectly still and think of what it was like to be alive, and to wait for Fern.

oh helytimes:

I’d find something poignant when I bought a used copy of Charlotte’s Web.

How about Wilbur’s plan for his day?

His plans for the day went something like this:

Breakfast at six-thirty.  Skim milk, crusts, middlings, bits of doughnuts, wheat cakes with drops of maple syrup sticking to them, potato skins, leftover custard pudding with raisins, and bits of Shredded Wheat.

Breakfast would be finished at seven.

From seven to eight, Wilbur planned to have a talk with Templeton, the rat that lived under his trough.  Talking with Templeton was not the most interesting occupation in the world but it was better than nothing.

From eight to nine, Wilbur planned to take a nap outdoors in the sun.

From nine to eleven he planned to dig a hole, or trench, and possibly find something good to eat buried in the dirt.

From eleven to twelve he planned to stand still and watch flies on the boards, watch bees in the clover, and watch swallows in the air.

Twelve o’clock – lunchtime.  Middlings, warm water, apple parings, meat gravy, carrot scrapings, meat scraps, stale hominy, and the wrapper off a package of cheese.  Lunch would be over at one.

From one to two, WIlbur planned to sleep.

From two to three, he planned to scratch itchy places by rubbing against the fence.

From three to four, he planned to stand perfectly still and think of what it was like to be alive, and to wait for Fern.

At four would come supper.  Skim milk, provender, leftover sandwich from Lurvy’s lunchbox, prune skins, a morsel fo this, a bit of that, fried potatoes, marmalade drippings, a little more of this, a little more of that, a piece of baked apple, a scrap of upsidedown cake.

Wilbur had gone to sleep thinking about these plans.  He awoke at six and saw the rain, and it seemed as though he couldn’t bear it.

sharon etgar

(via apiece apart)

work on a scale that’s appropriately small

one’s real duty to the future is to do as you should do now. Make the best choices, do the best work, fulfill your obligations in the best way you can, and work on a scale that’s appropriately small. make plans that are appropriately small. if you do those things, then the future will take care of itself.

– wendell berry

(via apiece apart)

digging this

just signed up for this newsletter, and this is my future, hopefully:

“Most of you know my story: I live in the south of France, in Montpellier. I grew up in California, spent eight years in DC, and moved here two and a half years ago, after having fallen for a French man I met at the hotel where I was working. We are no longer together, but I stayed, learned French, and got a job in the wine industry. I have a two-hour lunch break, just moved into a cute little apartment in the city center with two balconies, and take naps daily. “

VENMO WHY

by request of the organizer, i have to pay for my sister’s bachelorette party with VENMO. what is venmo? i am old. i tried to make it work and couldn’t get it to and harangued millenials and facebook apps and then had to write to venmo customer service for help. I AM REALLY OLD PRETTY MUCH

hbo in my hotel

PRETTY GOOD RECEPTION