Moving your mouth to pull out all your miracles aimed for me

i just finished reading jonathan safran foer's extremely loud and incredibly close. while i was anxious to keep reading, i didn't want it to end. what a gifted writer JSF is! there are some lovely passages that i am certain will stay with me through time:

She had fallen in love so many times that she began to suspect she was not falling in love at all, but doing something much more ordinary.

JSF does something that i only previously admired barbara kingsolver for, which is the ability to shift voices and keep them believable and distinct. the main narrator is a nine year old boy, oskar schell, on the search of his life in post-9/11 new york city. his actions are interspersed with letters from his grandfather and his grandmother, respectively. he uses images (not just the literary kind) of doorknobs and such to accompany the words and i am amazed at the effects on me.

i cried tears of happiness and joy and love and amazement and sadness when i finished.

you should find out why.

i'm going to begin again.

did you ever wonder if Jezebel was a revolutionary?

bb and i ventured over to powell's to attend norah vincent's reading.

so much about her is astounding. she's a hot, hot lady on the outside, but then she opens her mouth to speak, slightly shy and quickly gaining confidence. her contact with her audience is genuine and remarkable. and her vocabulary? oh jeez, already. i was ready to dump neko off at the laundry and get myself a new piece of arm candy. i raced through self-made man. it was so interesting to experience dialogue concerning men and men's sexuality and emotions and achilles' heels...especially in a new city.

(don't you love how i just pretended that i stroll along with neko case?)

i can't shake the feeling i got from "baby c'mon" last saturday.

AND two rows in front of us sat tegan!