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The business of knocking over and breaking things, and ripping up things, and killing little things is so tiring.  One must sit around and do nothing in order to regain one’s strength. There’s also the ever-important plotting part.  One must never neglect this task.  A well thought-out plot of evil today turns tomorrow’s knocked-over vase from something run of the mill into something genius, like a vase knocked over and onto the keyboard, while Stacy is holding a hot cup of coffee.

Not too long ago I posted about accidentally stumbling upon the Brahms Piano Concerto No. 2 and how gorgeous it was. Nicole said in the comments section that Brahms is underrated and it’s really true.

I didn’t pay attention to him myself until my choir did his Requiem, and then, of course, I was blown away. Now we’re doing something called Fest-und Gedenkspruche, Op. 109, and it’s just so beautiful.  I also love singing in German.  I think it’s all the v’s (which are reallly w’s) and z’s (which are s’s).

At one point during rehearsal last night our director asked if we liked it, and we said yes, and he said “Poor Brahms. Poor, poor Brahms.”  And he talked about Brahms being under-appreciated, and in his lifetime too. The woman sitting to my left started saying something about Clara, and I didn’t get a chance to ask her for more details, but I got the idea that Brahms loved and must have been unloved by someone named Clara.

Poor Brahms.  Well, I love you.

Last night my friend Molly and I were walking around after dinner when we passed by a Barnes & Noble and saw a sign for a reading and signing with Candace Bushnell, the author of Sex and the City. 

We went in, and the reading was over but Candace was still there signing books.

We stood and stared.  She looked great, by the way, I thought. The hair, the clothes.  After a few minutes I noticed that one woman had lined up behind us to get her book signed.  I stepped aside and explained that we weren’t online and she should move up.

Molly said, “Yeah, we’re just gawking.”

I’m enjoying HBO’s new show True Blood, mostly because of these two (and the actress who plays her grandmother).  I really believe the chemistry. But I also love a show that introduces me to new music, new to me that is.

I’ve already bought two songs because of this show: Bad Things by Jace Everett and Good Times by Charlie Robison.

Which reminds me, only because their last names are similar, I want to read Gilead and Home by Marilynne Robinson.  I have to add them to my “To Read” list.  Other books on my To Read list, which include a bunch of re-reads:

– Count of Monte Cristo.
– Alchemist.
– A Tale of Two Cities.
– Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.
– The Master and Margarita.
– Under the Banner of Heaven.
– Blindness.
– The Life of Pi.
– Ender’s Game.
– Ararat.
– Grapes of Wrath.
– A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.
– Altered Carbon, Spin.

One last picture from my trip to Governor’s Island yesterday.  So, The Emmys.  

Best moments:  Laura Linney’s comment calling the founding fathers community organizers. Tommy Smothers’s speech.  Paul Giamatti’s flusteredness.  Oh and Ricky Gervais, Ricky Gervais, Ricky Gervais.  As many people have already suggested, he should host next year.  And forever

Not so good moments:  Cutting off the director (writer?) of John Adams.  The opening. Danny Strong not winning for writing.  A certain actresses arms (I feel catty enough saying it, I can’t say who, but if you were watching you know who I’m talking about).  Josh Groban.