All posts in: weird things i love

14 Nov 2013

put a bird on it

Do you have stories that haunt you? Do you find yourself reading book after book about some topic you find completely obscure and nowhere near up your alley?

I’ve probably posted about this before, but it’s one of those weird human phenomena that that just tickles me. I am 95% positive my mother will never climb Everett or K2, would never pick up a book called My Life Climbing Mountains. Nevertheless, she finds herself reading mountain climbing books. Crazy!

I’ve wondered if I have one of these. Most of the weird repeating topics in my reading life are my own, weird doing.

And then I met the Ivory Billed Woodpecker.


As all barely interesting stories do, this story begins in grad school. I was assigned Phillip Hoose’s The Race to Save the Lord God Bird. A good IBWO primer.

A month later, I picked up John Corey Whaley’s Where Things Come Back. Suspicions rising…

This fall, the dang bird started showing up every which where. The True Blue Scouts of Sugar Man Swamp by Kathi Appelt. The Good Lord Bird by James McBride. I didn’t read the latter, but that’s TWO woodpeckers on the National Book Award short lists this year. Strange indeed.


Maybe it’s just birds in general? Maybe once one is exposed to one distinct bird, other birds become more noticeable? James Audubon too, for that matter. I learned a little about him in Race to Save the Lord God Bird, then read what felt like an ode to him in Gary D. Schmidt’s Okay for Now. When his name popped up in Sugar Man Swamp, we were old pals. That book is like, bird city.

Perusing my Read shelf on Goodreads reminded me that I’ve also read Dr. Bird’s Advice for Sad Poets this year. Does one bird count? Even if he’s a pigeon? And imaginary? I also read Phillip Hoose’s Moonbird last winter. I would recommend this title to bird sympathizers, yes, but I don’t think it necessarily counts for this particular purpose, because A) It’s nonfiction and B) It was Required Reading for last year’s Cybils award. It lacks kismet.

Perhaps it is possible that I am trying to invent myself a reading quirk? Maybe. Stranger things have happened. I tend to my reading life like other tend to homes, careers, families, children, massively multi-player online role-playing games, stamp collections, fantasy sports leagues, classic cars. I find pleasure in my reading life. I find value in my reading life.  I often ascribe meaning to the books I read that really has nothing to do with that book. And yeah, sometimes, I’m downright weird about it.

Now excuse me, I’m going to make like a hipster and buy this night-light for my apartment.


05 Feb 2013

hello, iPhone

I just wanted to tell you that after years of smack-talking smartphones, after managing to get a library job without one, after throwing away my iPad, I finally got an iPhone.

I saved my pennies to buy the 5 instead of the 4. I found some extra money in the budget to accommodate the larger phone bill. I applied all of my subtle (or not-so-subtle) persuasion skills to present the idea favorably to the person who brings home the other 50% of the family bacon.

And there you have it. I am now part of the 21st century. And I got a surprise 18% off my bill for working at the library. Heck yes!!

So far, I enjoy…

  • Watching Netflix, since my laptop’s external speakers haven’t worked in many months
  • Creating little schedules in Google Calendar that buzz my phone when it’s time to switch tasks
  • Using Reminders to do my grocery list instead of Post-it notes, which I am inclined to lose
  • Paying for my coffee with the Starbucks scanner, since I lost my golden Starbucks card
  • Taking pictures of the insides of books using Evernote instead of copying down quotes

My favorite apps are Goodreads, Sudoku and Sleep Cycle. I may be addicted to Sleep Cycle. I don’t know if it works, or if I am just excited every morning to wake up and look at my sleep charts. But I fell asleep last night listening to the sound of rain falling on a car roof, so who cares?

Oh, also: Instagram. If you want to see 100 pictures of my cat a day, follow me! Here is one shot for free:

Don’t worry. Plenty more where that came from.


28 Jan 2013

so you ran out of This American Life, vol. 3

You remember my blue notebook, right? Well, I have three weeks worth of data now, and the numbers are in: I manage to listen to 12 to 20 podcasts a week, even without podcasting during my commute. Yow-za.

Anyway, recently I felt the urge to replenish my supply with some new podcasts. I’d recently caught up with a few podcasts I’d started listening to from the beginning (!!) and was feeling like some others I’d listened to a lot were ready to be semi-retired – I’ll listen if I’m in the mood, or if a good guest appears. This happens with blogs I read too: every so often, I want to clean house and add some new blood.

That was a weird mixed metaphor.

This is a long weird way of saying: here are some new podcasts I’ve been digging:

I have not mentioned this before, but I am a big fan of podcasts about Love and Sex and Relationships. You guys are all completely shocked, I can tell. Anyway… This Feels Terrible is a podcast about Love and Sex and Relationships, with an emphasis on how awful they are. Despite my love of the contemporary young adult romance and a tendency to wax mush-tastic about my own current romance, I am actually fairly obsessed with how awful love can be. Host Erin McGathy – otherwise known as Dan Harmon’s girlfriend – interviews comedians and actors about their own romantic histories and their present dating habits, airing all their dirty laundry and dysfunctions. Oh, and it’s funny, too. Also, Erin McGathy talks a lot about her overwhelmingly awkward childhood, which is pretty much my own awkward childhood if I’d had 100x the chutzpah.

I have read blogs that led me to books. I have read books that led me to blogs. I have read blogs that led me to podcasts. I have never listened to a podcast that led me to a blog, but for the past few weeks I have been wondering why the HECK I haven’t been reading Joy the Baker! Joy’s podcast is completely winning – Joy and Tracy (who has her own super-popular blog) are just shooting the shit. There is no other way to explain what this podcast is about. Yes, they talk about blogging, about fashion (sort of), and yes, about food and drinks, but yeah – these two ladies are just friends having a good time. This podcast reminds me of conversations I have with my friends after a few drinks, or any conversation with my sisters. I love it – I’m starting from the beginning, and reading Joy’s super-popular blog.

Some other podcast related updates

Two of my favorite podcasters – Nikki and Sara of You Had to Be There – have landed a LATE NIGHT TALK SHOW ON MTV. It premiers tomorrow night and I am way, way, way excited.

My podcasting friends are still podcasting at JD’s Cocktail Lounge, and are really hitting their stride. Also worth noting: somehow, this podcast has become, in part, a love letter to the bizarre little city where I resided from the ages of 13 to 23. If you ever wanted to know more about Jackson, Michigan and how completely RIDICULOUS it is, or if you are a Jackson resident yourself, then this podcast is probably for you.

WTF is still WTF, but I have to say, these past few weeks? Knocking it out of the park. Favorites of late include Elizabeth Banks, Seth Green, Adam Schlesinger (of Fountains of Wayne)… and I haven’t listened to the Tim Ferriss episode yet, but Tim Ferriss, guys. He is a crazy person, so how can that not be good?

Also, I am going to a live WTF in February!



I should really remind myself of this more often. Grumpy? Cold? Tired? Well, you are going to a live WTF! Woohoo!!

Previous podcast posts:

So You Ran Out of This American Life, vol 1

So You Ran Out of This American Life, vol 2

13 Jan 2013

an ode to a kitchen table

For some folks, living as a grown up is something that just happens. I am of a certain age therefore I will no longer use the bath towels I stole from my parent’s basement in 2009 that they were probably keeping in the basement to rip up later for rags. I am of a certain age therefore I will no longer drink light beer. I am of a certain age therefore I will no longer let my parents pay for my cell phone.

Others, not so much. And by others, I mean me, and also this guy I live with. Unless prompted or required, we both tend toward a kind of perpetual adolescence, neither of us stepping toward responsibility or adult-like life progress.

What I’m trying to say is this: we are pretty messy and we play a lot of video games and live in ill-suited apartments and we don’t buy furniture.

Our current apartment is definitely ill-suited, in that A) it is disrepair B) it is in a shady neighborhood C) it is impossible and expensive to heat D) there are probably mice and E) it has no dishwasher or laundry However, despite all of it’s flaws, it is large. Huge, actually, compared to our previous living arrangements. We have room to do Wii Fit and sleep guests. We have separate closets and bookshelves. We have a poorly designed eat-in kitchen.

Somewhere in the whirlwind of getting a job and moving and such, it hit me that this is it. This is the life that I will lead from now on, give or take a few thousand dollars a year. As long as I am in this city, this is what I have to work with. No more waiting for a shoe to drop. All shoes are on the ground. Now what?

I decided that if this is the rest of my life, and I have this eat-in kitchen, then I would like a kitchen table to put in it.

Off to Goodwill we went and came back with a scratched up 35 dollar beauty and two chairs that belong in a formal dining room. No matter. A table is a table, a chair is a chair, and I like my kitchen table, I really do. It makes a life different.

Most nights of the week, we sit down and eat dinner together like civilized folks. After work, one person can make dinner while the other sits at the table and have your after-work chats. You have somewhere to put your cookbook, your groceries. If you are feeling lazy slumped on the couch between the hours of 6 p.m. and 9 p.m., you can take yourself over to the table, sit upright, pour a cup of tea and your mood changes. If you have something to work on, but you are afraid to do it, sitting at the kitchen table is nicer than holing yourself up in a bedroom because even if you have your headphones on, you are still part of the flow, not sequestered away, alone. You can grab a snack or a glass of water. You can spread out your papers and books.

It’s a good place to be.

On a similar note, I have also decided that if this is the rest of my life, I would like an iPhone. A 35-dollar table wasn’t much of a fight, but we’ll see how this goes…


31 Dec 2012

best moments of 2012

As I have told you time and time and time again, 2012? Ridiculous year. I hope down to my bones that I will never have another year like it. Everything I predicted on January 3rd came true, except for becoming unemployed – I hung onto that one last part-time job until the bitter end. Stress has done a good job of casting a haze over my memories of 2012, but here are some things I would like to remember.


A Sunday in January, I worked my usual noon to four reference desk shift. I was probably wearing my exercise clothes under my regular clothes. There were friends going to a bar to watch the game, but I skipped out because I hate football and because I wanted to go to the gym. The college gym on a Sunday early-evening is a quiet place, but more so when the Patriots are playing in the Superbowl. Only half of the overhead lights had been switched on, and I had the tiny indoor track to myself. I listened to This American Life and ran three (very slow) miles for the first time in my life. Then I took a last lap and made it a 5k.

Then a security guard locked me into campus in fear of Superbowl related riots, but let’s just hang on to the first part of that night.


A Tuesday in February, I worked my usual four to nine reference desk shift. The Boy picked me up from work and when we made it home, he asked me to marry him. I said yes. Of course I will remember this.

But after that, there was this period of time – a week, two weeks, I can’t quite remember – when we didn’t tell a soul. The ring needed to be sized, we needed to tell parents and family before Facebook – all of these logistical reasons, but also I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I was getting married. I am getting married. After eight years, a ring on my finger.

Those few weeks were a little bubble of excitement. On a day off, The Boy surprised me at work, delivering the re-sized ring and a large Marylou’s coffee. I wore it to my internship the next day because I knew nobody would ask. We talked about it only to each other. We spent an entire hour trying to figure out how to announce such a thing on Facebook on afternoon, and then we went to see The Hunger Games. Now I don’t notice this ring on my finger, I am doing stuff like premarital counseling, I refer to The Boy as “my fiance” from time to time, and it all seems quite normal, but for those few weeks, it was a strange new secret that only existed in our apartment, in our car, when we were together.


I started looking at jobs in late February and got excited about a few positions that seemed ideal. I polished up my resume and wrote cover letters, and a month after applying, I had heard nothing. By March, I wasn’t in the I-hate-myself dregs of job hunting yet, but the experience had certainly lost its luster.

One job in particular had caught my overachieving eye early in the job hunting phase. Not a job, but a fellowship, for children’s services, in one of the best public libraries in the country. Two year commitment, make 50K annually plus health insurance, stipends for ALA… but first, an appropriately rigorous application process. In February, I was geeked. By March, I was appalled. How many essay questions? No more than FIVE letters of reference?? A video??? Ugh.

A certain library someone sent me a link to the posting later in March. To him I said, “Ugh, that application sounds atrocious and I hate the world and how will I even get 5 LETTERS of reference before the deadline?”And he said back, “Well, you just ask for them.”

Oh. Well.

So I asked, I muscled through the essays, recorded a video, over-nighted my application packet, and a few days later, I got a Skype interview.

I did not get the job and I’d rather forget about that interview, honestly, but it was a nice boost at the beginning of my search, and really was an honor just to be considered.


One thing that is frustrating about growing up semi-privileged/growing up in a recession/growing up period is that despite what you have wished for, hoped for, and had been promised, successes are rarely straightforward. This simple transaction – work hard, produce something that shows your skills, and then be rewarded? This doesn’t happen that often.

Except that this year it happened to me. I took an unpaid internship. I showed up twice a week and did menial tasks. The interns were all asked to write a book review for the two publications. I wrote mine and submitted it on time. It was well-received and I was asked to stay on as a reviewer for both.

Obviously, there are other factors that led to this chain of events (see: writing XXX words about books here, for school, for other purposes over many years, paying to attend a particular Master’s program, having the relative luxury/insanity to work for free at an internship for a semester), but in the end, I wrote it, it was good, I got my reward.


After a weekend of being touristy, a day of walking all over town and hitching charter buses and pinning hoods on graduation robes and deciding who would drive where with who and when, after walking across a graduation stage, so many of the people I loved gathered together from far, far away to sit with me and eat at Legal Seafood.

There was a bottle of wine. Life was good.


In late July, I took my 25-minute lunch break in the Starbucks across the street from my retail job. Things were not going well. I had a rotten commute. My days off were spent finishing up things at my other job, or going out on job interviews. I was getting job rejections. It was hot. I sweat through my work t-shirts every day. I wasn’t particularly good at the kind of retail I was expected to be good at. I started eating foods mindlessly in a way I hadn’t for years. I had no idea where I was going to live come September 1st. I was stressed.

I wrote a sad plan to myself in my little journal, there in the Starbucks with my iced coffee. I was about to go on a two week vacation – maybe I should give my two weeks when I get back, we can find a dirt-cheap place to live nearer to where The Boy’s new job, maybe out of town, and I can find another part-time job. There are other part-time jobs. Keep applying for library jobs. Slice the budget as close as you can. Defer loans. A sad plan, but at least I wouldn’t have to sit in a Starbucks in a sweaty t-shirt on a twenty-minute lunch break any more. There would be an end to this particular brand of misery.

I wrote it, then finished my shift and after, there was a voicemail on my phone. It was a job offer. The Job I Wanted job offer.

I gave my two weeks the next day, took my vacation, and when I came back, started this life that I am living now.


I have told you all about the books that have shaped my year, but I will also remember 2012 as the year of the podcast, of Adele’s 21, of Hunger Games the movie, of Breaking Bad, Pitch Perfect, and Skyrim.

27 Dec 2012

Christmas 2012

This is the only picture I have from this Christmas; apparently my camera decided to eat them all. No matter, this picture is more than adequate to capture the spirit of the day. We hung around in our PJs. We dressed ourselves in our new Christmas finery as we unpacked (see: a purple scarf from my Smallest Sister). My parents sent us his and hers electric blankets which are divine. Peach, as you might note, agrees. I introduced The Boy to the American classic that is A Christmas Story. Let’s not talk about how in the world one can live nearly 28 years without seeing this film.

Our first Christmas without our families. Our first Christmas together. What with an unexpected midweek trip to the Midwest and all, I didn’t have a heck of a lot of time to sit around and scheme about what could make this holiday special.

So I went with old standby, the obvious choice for memorializing any occasion: making a shit ton of food. Far too much food for two people to ingest in a reasonable amount of time. After multiple trips to many different grocery stores, I prepared the following menu:

Christmas Eve

  • Appetizers
    • Fancy brie and sharp cheddar with toasty white bread
    • A cheesy frozen appetizer from Trader Joe’s
  • Dinner
    • Marinated sirloin. Cooked in the broiler despite every internet site insisting that in order for sirloin to be edible it simply MUST be grilled. It came out fine, guys.
    • Brussels sprouts with bacon
    • Mashed red potatoes with roasted garlic
  • Dessert

Christmas Morning

  • Tackett family traditional sour cream coffee cake
  • Tackett family traditional sausage gravy
  • Biscuits from the NYTimes (first batch came out flat, second came out poofy! A Christmas Miracle!)

Christmas Dinner

All this talk of tradition, which ones you will bring together, which new traditions will you create. This is strange for us, in particular, because The Boy is the youngest of two – most of his childhood traditions in his home have long been abandoned in favor of sleeping in until 1 pm and opening presents whenever. And me? Well, I don’t love traditions as much as require them. I hoard them. Some I likely urged upon my family as a youngster – or more likely, cried my eyes out when that tradition did not appear in subsequent years and then whatever it was would reappear the next year. Lately my sisters and I have turned traditions into sport. For example, as I was Skyping home on Christmas morning, I was informed by my sisters that they had begun a new annual holiday tradition of singing Christmas carols in the style of Abe and Mary Todd Lincoln. I have no idea what this means, but there you have it.

I chose to bring to the table the Traditional Tackett Family Christmas Breakfast, and bought him a Traditional Tackett Extremely Difficult Jigsaw Puzzle for us to enjoy. He enforced his own family’s tradition of attending a motion picture in the evening. I forced upon him my own traditional love of musical theater and bought tickets for Les Mis without consultation.

As for new traditions, I decided that my life does not allow nearly enough opportunities for mimosa-drinking, so we cracked open a bottle before noon. Merry Christmas, indeed.

03 Nov 2012

so you ran out of This American Life, vol. 2

Nine months ago, I fell down the well of Obsessive Podcast Listening. I don’t know if this is necessary correlative, but you know what? I’ve been a happier person these last nine month, and one place I get a lot of daily happiness is picking a good podcast to keep me company. I can’t quite explain what makes podcasts so wonderful, but I suspect its something about the intimacy of audio, the candid interviews, the uncensored-ness of alt-media.

When I was younger, my parents were Howard Stern fans, which I thought was bizarre, since he was rude, inappropriate, and ridiculously misogynistic.

Now I think I get it.

I shared some of my favorites back in March, but I’ve found many more podcasts to love since then. Again, I shall give all due credit to Ashley over at Writing to Reach You. She is my Patron Saint of Podcast. You can find some of her recommendations here and here.

In my last list, I was like “eh, Marc Maron.” Oh, how quickly the tides turn. I remember very distinctly some time last spring, listening to the opening monologue to Mindly Kaling episode while jogging around my school’s tiny track and thinking “Man, I wish this guy would shut up so I can get to the good part.” Now, I regularly think “Man, I wish that Marc Maron wouldn’t even have guests and would just talk to himself for a full hour.” I am a WTF with Marc Maron convert.

For the uninitiated, Marc Maron is a comedian who started performing in the 80s and 90s, but never saw particular commercial success. But what does that even mean for comedians? A half hour special on Comedy Central? A role on SNL? Who knows, but if this question is at all interesting to you, then you might like this podcast. Maron interviews comedians, musicians, and other celebrities, talking about their childhoods, their careers, and their other struggles. Conversations vary in tone and topic, but are fairly consistently engaging. Just do it.

Elizabeth and Andy Laime have another podcast, Totally Laime, that is more of the traditional “interviewing cool people” format. I listened to a few episodes, but couldn’t get into it… however, I may have to reconsider because I love-love-love their spin-off podcast, Totally Married. Elizabeth and Andy are married (duh) and in this podcast, they talk about their lives, their relationship, their past relationships, and answer relationship advice questions from listeners. I am indifferent about the advice portion, but damn if Elizabeth and Andy aren’t just terribly charming. I am obsessed with all things marriage, but I feel like much marriage-related media is focused on traditional family structures, gender roles, and expectations. Totally Married is like a peep-hole directly into the marriage of two young, creative types, which I find much more relevant and interesting.

On the JV Club, Janet Varney invites female actors, comedians, musicians, bloggers, and other media-makers, to come to her house and talk about their teenage years. I love how quickly these stories become passionate and involved – whether they are tales of great childhoods or troubled teenage-doms, there is something so intense about a teen girlhood… the story of your teen years is a powerful one.

See also: my YA obsession. Those who write for teens might find this podcast an inspiring way to remember the specificity of those complex teen stories and emotions.

Speaking of YA, Sara Zarr is a well-known, well-awarded YA author who has started a podcast of her own. This Creative Life is nothing unexpected – Sara chats with authors of all sorts (not just YA) about their writing process, how they feel about their careers, what kinds of things they value in their own creative journeys. The kind of stuff that writers and writer-wannabes love to hear about, even though they should know well enough that there’s not some “secret” of success that only the published, well-known, well-awarded authors hold. However, what makes this podcast special is that Zarr talks to her guests like they are trusted friends, colleagues, etc, and the conversations sound almost like actual phone conversations between two creative types. I don’t find these podcasts life changing, but I do find the peek into the minds of writers helps me think about my own mind in a similar way.

And now for something entirely different… Doug Loves Movies! Comedian Doug Benson invites comedians and actors to join in many movie-related games in front of a live audience, and records the podcast. The games are silly party games – name that movie, string together movie titles, I can’t really explain this very well so I am going to stop. The “contestants” are sometimes very good and sometimes very bad. But what is most impressive is the star-power that Doug can convince to come play games – if you ever are in the mood for a light, “Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me” kind of podcast but starring Judd Apatow, Aziz Ansari, or Anna Kendrick, then you might like Doug Loves Movies.

29 Oct 2012

2012: week forty-two

October 21 – October 27

I finally got a new computer and my sister was so kind as to mail me a special, special package.

Friends, after three years away, The Sims 3 is back in my life.

All I did this week was create a family, accidentally raise 6 children from birth to adult (I was aiming for 5 but had some surprise twins), rise through a business and culinary career, remodel the house, send two kids to boarding school, and take a vacation to Egypt.

Aka, all shirk every duty I had and sit at the computer and play.

What a good week.



  • Mad Men, Mad Men, Mad Men

Listening To:

  • I’m out of good CDs to listen to, so I’m turning to WXPN’s 2011 Top 50 list again. Listened to Fleet Foxes, Bon Iver, and some Paul Simon.
  • Finally got around to listening to author Sara Zarr’s This Creative Life podcast, about writing. Quite enjoyable, although I wish the audio quality was better.
17 Oct 2012

seven things i still love from seventh grade


In this-book-that-I-won’t-stop-talking about (aka The Happiness Project), Ms. Rubin spends a month and a chapter ruminating on what kinds of leisure activities lead to greater happiness – what hobbies she really likes. Although begins this chapter with a treatise on how, despite the fact that she is an capable, educated adult, she has this strange and inexplicable passion for (gasp!) children’s literature!, this little struggle hit home.

Do you remember when everyone and their brother was writing up 101 in 1001 lists? I wonder how many of those 101 things ever got done, and not because people are lazy and content to watch 101 episodes of television in 1001 days rather than get off the couch – maybe it’s just impossible to WANT to do that many things with enough passion to actually do them. My own 101 list was a 30% aspirational randomness I had no control over, 30% hobbies and activities I though would make me smarter or more well-rounded or some other college application bullshit, 30% travel destination checklist items, and maybe 1% things that I actually wanted to do.

How do you distill out that 1% when your brain is full of 99 things you don’t quite like. In The Happiness Project, Ms. Rubin asks a friend for advice and the answer she gets really stuck with me.

“What you enjoyed as a ten-year-old is probably something you’d enjoy now.”

The only activities I really remember enjoying at ten involve watching music videos on VH-1, watching TGIF with my sister in my parents bedroom, and buying new Beanie Babies. So I thought about seventh grade instead, when I was a bit more mature. Ahem.

So without further ado, here are seven things I loved as a seventh grader that I would be happy to do any day of my twenty-seven-year-old life.

1. Cutting and pasting pieces of paper

2. Staying home on a weekend night, doing nothing in particular, and going to bed early.

3. Making up imaginary people.

4. Reading on the couch. Has to be the couch.

5. Playing with Legos. I pretty much only want kids so I can play with Legos again.

6. Writing things down, preferably while practicing different types of handwriting.

7. Oh yeah and that reading-books-for-kids thing.

So cheers to spending weekend nights watching MTV while scribbling in notebooks, making collages, and reclining on soft pieces of furniture with books. If I’m lucky, I will be doing all this when I’m 80.

10 Oct 2012

life as a normal human: holidays

There is something civilized about holidays, especially if they are paid. Each holiday commemorates something seasonally specific, but I do not think it is a coincidence that these treasured days off appear regularly, almost monthly, like the national powers that be are aware that more than a month of working 40 hour weeks without a day off will make most folks a little nuts.

Last week was an off week, and it was certainly a comfort to think that I had a three day weekend awaiting me.

I honored the day by…

  • Waking up early-ish and trying not to play too much early-morning Skyrim
  • Spending my morning alone in a productive-ish manner – cleaning, scheduling, & running
  • Knitting approximately twelve stitches (slow but steady)
  • Doing laundry in a most pleasurable way – a cup of hot coffee at the cafe across the street from the laundromat, taken out of doors, with friends and even doing a bit of extracurricular writing.
  • Butternut squash & apple soup and the boy’s latest attempt at sweet potato fries
  • Reading a book about tuberculosis
  • Using expensive deep conditioner while washing my hair
  • Putting a blanket on top of a Rubbermaid and pretending it is a coffee table