Between JT and Tegan and Sara, it looks as if Pop’s dark clouds are finally passing. Now we just need to find a way to check Ke$ha into a long-term rehab program, make Lady Gaga a permanent installation in the MoMa, and convince Lana Del Rey to go into modeling or some other profession in which her mouth won’t open.
Had a strange experience at a party last night. I was small talking to a girl I’d just met, and some exchange of remarks led me to say “you’re a bad bitch, aren’t you?” Hearing this made her blush, giddy and empowered, so much so that she turned to the nearest three guys and asked them if they, too, thought that she was a bad bitch. They said no, of course not. Feeling their familiar power structures under siege, they said “you’re too nice to be a bad bitch, trust me.” These rebuttals put her firmly back in her place, and I thought that was a much bigger shame than the cops coming, not long after this, to tell us to call it a day.
In any case, ladies: go ahead and be bad bitches, please. It might inspire us to get our shit together, be more positively self-possessed, and not treat you all, retroactively, like various things including dolls, raw meat, and decorative art.
They are lost, but also not lost but somewhere in the world. Most of them are small, though two are larger, one a coat and one a dog. Of the small things, one is a valuable ring, one a valuable button. They are lost from me and where I am, but they are also not gone. They are somewhere else, and they are there to someone else, it may be. But if not there to someone else, the ring is, still, not lost to itself, but there, only not where I am, and the button, too, there, still, only not where I am.
- Lydia Davis