My new planner arrived today, with an assortment of stickers I largely have no use for (coffee cups, Stuart Smalley affirmations) and pages I’ll leave blank (vision boards, mind maps and other things meant for UGG-wearing women who’ve attended Rachel Hollis seminars). I also spotted Buncha Crunch at the store for the first time in over a year and felt obligated to purchase it, even though it’ll probably taste weirdly waxy as usual, because it’s been a sentimental favorite since it was first sold in movie theaters when I was a kid.*
So many pages in this planner are devoted to goals, “Things I Will Do to Make This Month Great,” a life-balance wheel, lists of monthly lessons learned, etc. None of that interests me. My perfect planner would be 5” x 8”, have a sturdy cover with really solid wire binding, and no emphasis on self-improvement. Certainly I’m not thinking 20 years ahead at the moment, which is probably a first — I was born clutching a typewritten list that contained my 75-year plan — and frequent reminders of that are unnecessary.
Nudity Hank went back in my desk drawer (there’s no point in wasting it where it won’t be seen) and Patsy Stone was neatly affixed to the inside front cover. North by Northwest went on its exterior, since I currently feel pursued like Roger Thornhill, while Dorothy Zbornak’s “No, no. I will not have a nice day!” is on the back. Franz Kafka is on the inside back cover, to be replaced by Proust if I try this again next year.
Hopefully this won’t be a waste of time or money and I’ll interact with it more than the electronic reminders I’ve ignored or forgotten about these last few months. In other news, I introduced Crankenstein to Baby Face tonight, one of the most notorious pre-Codes — and one of Barbara Stanwyck’s finest early triumphs. It’s on Tubi if anyone’s interested and is well worth seeing for Stanwyck, Theresa Harris, and its depressing subject matter. Modern critics tend to gloss over that and treat it as a fun, feisty feminist statement, which is both folly and a testament to Stanwyck’s bravura talent and extraordinary charm.
* The vintage Spuds MacKenzie ad was sourced online so I can get a high quality scan and shrink it for a miniature project.