http://www.ananova.com/news/story/sm_1261997.html?menu

(Thanks to my Matthew for suggesting I post this story.)

I picked up an additional and rather sizable free-lance project on Thursday. I also received yet another employment rejection letter. I’m doing my best not to lose faith, but it grows ever more difficult with each day.

I was buying the two Bright Eyes albums at a Homer’s I hadn’t been in before, when I see Rufus Wainwright working behind the counter. He tells me about a few exclusive tracks he’ll release later this year via the iTunes Music Store.

Weird…

My sister faxed me an article on Conor Oberst in the February issue of Esquire magazine. It has one of the better observations about Oberst and the articles written as of late: “Listening to Oberst is far more fulfilling than reading about him.”

Right on, Andy Langer. Right on.

Am I the only one who things “Morning Edition” on NPR goes a little overboard with regard to international news? By no means am I saying I don’t want to hear international news, but there MUST be something going on here in the U.S.

Jeez, I hope this doesn’t sound too egocentric, “rah, rah America.”

French toast: One of the best breakfast foods EVER. This morning was proof.

I managed to accomplish a lot of little tasks that have needed to be finished for the past few weeks. That means my Tuesday will be a lot less busy and a lot more languid. Go me.

Last week’s issue of The New Yorker had two (yes, two!) articles/essays that were printed in issues last fall/winter. Is this normal?

Here’s my article on Jolene Roberts, our Person of the Year for 2004.

http://www.bellevueleader.com/index.php?u_pg=910&u_sid=1314677

DEAR ABBY, My husband has a long record of money problems. He runs up
huge credit card bills and at the end of the month, if I try to pay them
off, he shouts at me, saying I am stealing his money. He says pay the
minimum and let our kids worry about the rest, but already we can hardly
keep up with the interest.

Also he has been so arrogant and abusive toward our neighbors that most of
them no longer speak to us. The few that do are an odd bunch, to whom he
has been giving a lot of expensive gifts, running up our bills even more.
Also, he has gotten religious in a big way, although I don’t quite
understand it. One week he hangs out with Catholics and the next with
people who say the Pope is the Anti-Christ. And now he has been going to
the gym an awful lot and is into wearing uniforms and cowboy outfits, and
hate to think what that means.

Finally, the last straw. He’s demanding that before anyone can be in the
same room with him, they must sign a loyalty oath. It’s just so horribly
creepy! Can you help?

Signed, Lost in DC

Dear Lost: Stop whining, Laura. You can divorce the jerk any time you
want. The rest of us are stuck with him for four more years.

It will be two years next month since I moved into my house, which is no more than three blocks away from a steak house. It was around 8 last night, as I was taking my garbage to the curb, when, for the first time, I could smell it.

Steak.

My initial reaction: “Who’s grilling at this hour?”

Then, it dawned on me. It wasn’t someone’s at-home grill I was smelling.

No.

It was the sweet odor of a thick steak cooking away on the restaurant’s grill.

And I began to salivate to the likes of Pavlov’s pooch.

I’m still hungry for steak. Mmm.