Treats for the Senses

Some things I am enjoying these days:

Eyes: I saw two terrific DVDs, courtesy of the Briarcliff Manor Library. Sylvia, everyone's favorite angsty poet/pre-feminist martyr starring Gwyneth Paltrow, and Swimming Pool starring the ever alluring Charlotte Rampling and some French chick who spends half the movie topless. Both flicks deal with writers trying to make sense of their inner worlds and the female leads wer both wonderful. Paltrow looks wonderful as a honey blonde and she captured Plath's ambition and ultimate breakdown. Rampling not only doesn't wear any make-up, she seems to have been dipped in khaki. Despite this near-criminal act, she remains ever mysterious and radiant. For you Rampling Fetishists, go kill an hour here.

Ears: Just ripped the debut disk from Arctic Monkeys and it sounds like fast, lean punk played by kids who never heard the word 'irony.' Just what the doctor ordered.

Taste: I attended a cocktail party and asked for a scotch. The bartender -- a slim Asian gal hired to fit the modern Japanese theme of the slick restaurant -- said "I knew you were going to order that." After a Glen Livet, I ordered a Johnny Walker Black. Mmmmm.

Smell: Bought a dozen bars of Ivory Soap. If you don't feel clean after using the best soap on the planet, you have OCD, my friend.

Feel: Right now I am loving Lightning Fields by Dana Spiotta. She writes about three women trying to make sense of life in late 90s LA. One character is a personal shopper for businessmen with too much moeny and no taste. She expands to specialty restaurants that cater to people's specific dietary needs and only seats four people a night. Models and actresses quake as they thank her for cooking their macrbiotic meals so that they consume hearly zero calories in the course of a $600 meal. Little do they know that the chef uses a stick of butter in each meal.