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February 12, 2008

Comments

Andrew

Here you go!

http://www.thebathroomdiaries.com/usa/new+york/manhattanindex.html

Kristen

I love your blog, but you are getting no sympathy from this Minnesotan... Walking from the car to the movie theatre was literally dangerous Sunday afternoon... Not to mention attempting to exercise my frustrated mare...

Seriously, though, thanks for a great blog!

david m

Here's another:
http://www.nyrestroom.com/
There's a section for "East Village/Chinatown"

C-

Isn't there a Barnes and Noble in the village?

C-

ed

I've been in New York for eight months now. And there are two things I've learned:

a) New Yorkers are more pusillanimous about the weather than even THIS Californian transplant, who is certainly cold but prefers to embrace the weather, particularly when it comes with the delightful coats of snow.

b) If you need a public restroom, there are no far too many Starbuck's in this city. To my mind, this is the only real purpose that Starbuck's serves. Indeed, it is easier to find a Starbuck's where you can micturate in New York than ANY free restroom in San Francisco.

Also, New York is a better place to be than Minnesota. THAT is truly ass cold weather. And I applaud the Minnesotans for sticking through 40 below with their sanity intact.

TEV

I am humbled in my weakness by Minnesotan bravery - thank you for the perspective/corrective. And the B&N johns are not open to the public (even on the 3rd St. promenade in Santa Monica). And Edward my man - micturate? Surely an EV for "pee"?

Thanks for the all the links - am investigating and will bookmark the best in my (ahem) handheld.

ed

If it's good enough for Lebowski, it's good enough for me. :)

http://theyear2015.blogspot.com/2005/02/micturate.html

Mark Thwaite

Two quick thoughts about Stockport, England:

1) It is warm_ish. Well, for February: the crocuses are already here. We have so broken planet!

2) The TBR pile is huge. Well, for February: it normally takes 3 or 4 months to get this teetering. "Harry, Revised" proof has landed and sits on the top of it.

tod goldberg

People always ask me: Why do you live in La Quinta? The answer: Today, Feb. 12th, 2008, I sat out by the pool and read. It was 84 degrees or 120 degrees warmer than it was in Minnesota.

(The downside is that also by the pool were some pale ass Minnesotans who were complaining about the heat. )

C-

Wow, just the other day I "was in" a local B&N. Score one for Orange County!

Current Score: 3,647,813 - 1

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TEV DEFINED


  • The Elegant Variation is "Fowler’s (1926, 1965) term for the inept writer’s overstrained efforts at freshness or vividness of expression. Prose guilty of elegant variation calls attention to itself and doesn’t permit its ideas to seem naturally clear. It typically seeks fancy new words for familiar things, and it scrambles for synonyms in order to avoid at all costs repeating a word, even though repetition might be the natural, normal thing to do: The audience had a certain bovine placidity, instead of The audience was as placid as cows. Elegant variation is often the rock, and a stereotype, a cliché, or a tired metaphor the hard place between which inexperienced or foolish writers come to grief. The familiar middle ground in treating these homely topics is almost always the safest. In untrained or unrestrained hands, a thesaurus can be dangerous."

SECOND LOOK

  • The Bookshop by Penelope Fitzgerald

    Bs

    Penelope Fitzgerald's second novel is the tale of Florence Green, a widow who seeks, in the late 1950s, to bring a bookstore to an isolated British town, encountering all manner of obstacles, including incompetent builders, vindictive gentry, small minded bankers, an irritable poltergeist, but, above all, a town that might not, in fact, want a bookshop. Fitzgerald's prose is spare but evocative – there's no wasted effort and her work reminds one of Hemingway's dictum that every word should fight for its right to be on the page. Florence is an engaging creation, stubbornly committed to her plan even as uncertainty regarding the wisdom of the enterprise gnaws at her. But The Bookshop concerns itself, finally, with the astonishing vindictiveness of which provincials are capable, and, as so much English fiction must, it grapples with the inevitabilities of class. It's a dense marvel at 123 pages, a book you won't want to – or be able to – rush through.
  • The Rider by Tim Krabbe

    Rider_4

    Tim Krabbé's superb 1978 memoir-cum-novel is the single best book we've read about cycling, a book that will come closer to bringing you inside a grueling road race than anything else out there. A kilometer-by-kilometer look at just what is required to endure some of the most grueling terrain in the world, Krabbé explains the tactics, the choices and – above all – the grinding, endless, excruciating pain that every cyclist faces and makes it heart-pounding rather than expository or tedious. No writer has better captured both the agony and the determination to ride through the agony. He's an elegant stylist (ably served by Sam Garrett's fine translation) and The Rider manages to be that rarest hybrid – an authentic, accurate book about cycling that's a pleasure to read. "Non-racers," he writes. "The emptiness of those lives shocks me."