November 27, 2010

• I have no will to write today.

  
  illustration by Amelie Hegardt

  I woke up at 6 to get ready for the interns. They are working on a new project to include more video in the blog. It's a sort of tour through the apartments and closets of people working on and at the magazine. I volunteered to be the first subject. It's not my favourite thing - scrutiny makes me nervous - but I want to (and should) set a good example. Plus, I really like this round of interns. They seem inordinately thoughtful and sincere. It brings out my scant scraps of maternal instinct. Of course, that meant getting up at the crack of dawn and dusting-vacuuming-straightening. (I am my mother's daughter.) There was, along with the legitimate cleaning, a lot of squirreling things into out-of-the-way spaces. While I'm thoroughly enjoying my uncluttered surfaces, the next week is going to be a hellish exercise in recovering the things I tidied into oblivion. 

  In any case, by the time they arrived, I'd been up and slaving away for hours (the place did look very nice). It never occurred to me while I was folding sweaters and shaking out rugs that I ought to think about things I might say. And while I have been known to rise to a conversational occasion when necessary, it didn't happen this time. Ah, well. The whole segment won't be more than four minutes; how bad could it be? 

  It was certainly different from the interview yesterday. I don't want to jinx anything, but I think it went well. Aside from the couple of moments where I went off my head a little (there are a handful of topics* I tend to get overexcited about), I think I said some smartish things and held up my end nicely. (My editor and I were both subjects and, in the past, she's done most of the talking.) The writer seemed interested and engaged and I would like to think it was more than professional courtesy. The story comes out next Saturday. We'll see, we'll see.

  In other news, the heat seems to be on. It's no where near the level it ought to be, but that may be Ivan's game. If you starve the hostages for a few days, a crust of bread starts to look like a gift.

  Great. And now I have Stockholm syndrome. 
  g.

   

  *We got to talking about how the Canada Council in its infinite wisdom deemed FASHION IS NOT ART. (Shhh, don't tell Paris.) It was on this basis we were told not to bother applying for an arts grant. Every time I think of it I become positively livid. At some point in my rant last night, I think I might have yelled into the tape recorder. Other examples of things that bother me are people who think only Europeans should ride bikes ("We're just not set up for it here"), people who use the phrase "leftist media," and English speakers who say "BudaPESHT" when they would never, EVER consider saying "Paree" or "Deutschland." Please.

   

  • 5:03 pm
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