don’t give your talent the finger

On October 6, 2012July 29, 2015 By Emily KeithIn celebrations, ephemera, Get Angry About It, i have really talented friendsLeave a comment

Dear David Foster Wallace,

a little bit of everything for the man of indiscriminate tastes

On Wednesday I drank your new biography, Every Love Story Is a Ghost Story: A Life of David Foster Wallace by D.T. Max. I’ve read damn near everything you’ve ever written so knowing you through your work I was not looking forward to an overview of your life. You were a liar, an egoist, an indiscriminate lover of the ladies and, trust me, there is nothing worse than a man who loves all women. The practice lacks detail and smacks of a pandering case of “love me, all of you.”

How do you feel about Blackberry Jalapeno Jam? I feel really good about it.

DFW, you died exactly when you should have, about 13 years after your sobriety saved you from an early bucket and allowed you to complete Infinite Jest. I feel badly for your biographer; every love affair, class, recovery meeting, and cross country mission was a dead end for you – twisted by falsehoods ranging from self-fiction to manipulative lies.

You can’t lie to pastry dough, she is unforgiving.

Perhaps most importantly, you ate like a vagrant; incessantly complaining about your lack of funding, mooching free home cooked meals off friends and academics in exchange for your brilliant(!), unparalleled(!), literary and philosophical discourse. When you made your home at Amherst you were a member of the “5:01 Club,” the group would hit the cafeteria when it opened for dinner, carb-load, and retire to the library – I like this detail about you and it is the only thing we have in common. Regardless of your character, drinking your biography compelled me to feed you the way your written words feed me, will always feed me…

You loved pop•tarts.

You ate them all the time, a recovering booze-hound who couldn’t shake the need for sugar. Since you liked home cooked meals in exchange for your brilliance this seems like a fair trade. I hope your taste in pop•tarts is as indiscriminate as your taste in women because I have a few doozies for you to try.

Start you off slowly: Nutella, Marshmallow and Chocolate

Feeling Adventurous? Hoisin, scallion, pickled pepper.

Topped with dried onion and benito furikake.

Rounding Your Bend with Peach BBQ Sauce and Peanut Butter

I hope you enjoy my labor of distaste, you insufferable bastard.

All Best and I Love You,

ESK

may the bridges you burn light your way

On September 16, 2012September 16, 2012 By Emily KeithIn celebrations, ephemera, i have really talented friends, poetry because i feel like it, PortlandLeave a comment

At 7:00am on Saturday, September 15th I promised myself pizza. Cheese and crust, the bare minimum of expectations. Around 8:30am I started googling 24 hour pizza joints. ‘Sup pdx? There are none. At 8:50am I resurrected my twitter activity to complain about the dearth of 24 hour pizza.

A well known rock star pizza joint due to open at 11:00 was closed when I arrived with friends at 11:30. That’s right Sizzle Pie, I am looking directly at you with a stern look of…set your alarm clock.

I picked at a corn dog. Pro Tip: A corn dog will never satisfy a pizza craving no matter how excellent the corn dog may be.

Bridge City Pizza is a new place recommended to me by a Wise Woman. I placed a phone order for two 14″ pies. One veggie, one meaty. Three friends in tow. Buy some cheap champagne at the Plaid next door.

This is Chicago Style Thin Crust. Trust me when I say that the component parts equal a vast sum: this pizza is slightly buttery on the crust, just the right amount of grease, un-sweet sauce, herby, balanced, this is the pizza you’ve been thinking about all day. And the veggies!! They are well cared for, roasted to perfection.

I placed two slices on a plate and exited to the back yard. Guess what happened next? I cried about it. I’m not even joking. 5 months of desert face and two square slices of pie did me in. I clearly needed pizza. If you are anything like me you don’t always feel worthy of the things that you want; maybe you ignore yourself, maybe you hate wanting things, maybe you don’t understand either of these concepts. Have some Bridge City Pizza. Keep some tissues handy.