Lots of frisky li’l princesses and dudes think that New York is the only place in the world where you can be a young person thinking about literature and then see an old guy trying hard to barf at 9 a.m. Not so!
I just picked up the Jan. 5 issue of the New Yorker after a 5 hour drive up the 5. It seemed like 50. I got so depressed I honestly thought I might vanish into thin air.
But quickly I got to “Shouts & Murmurs” by Amy Ozols, this week titled “Looking your Best.” I’m tempted to transcribe the entirety of of the article here, which is written in list form. I’ll just write the first item that I found that lifted me out of hyper-depressive lack of existence and made me laugh out loud:
Step 2: Visualize yourself as a thin person. This is very important, because the body often takes its signals from the brain. Each time you take a bite of food, imagine that you are a thin person taking a bite of food, chewing the food, then spitting the food into a napkin, then tucking the napkin into your backpack or purse. After you’re done visualizing these things, start doing them.
Then I got to page 36: “It Took A Village: How the Voice changed journalism” by Louis Menand. Skimming the article and picking up little bits of Floyd Dell and Village lore, and just the sight of the names John Cage, Miles Davis, and James Agee practically brought me to tears. I’ve never been more miserable that I don’t live in New York.