I have a bowl of ice cream, but find myself still hungry. I go into the kitchen to see what else I feel like. I’m searching through the fridge, looking for something tasty. Hmmm. Ooooo! Pickles!
I am halfway through the jar of pickles before I realize what I’m doing. Ice cream and pickles? Seriously? Do I count as a walking cliche if I don’t actually use the ice cream as a dip for the pickles?
I guess what I’m trying to say is, we’re having a baby. A little, tiny baby, which will be far cuter and will smell even better than all other babies available on the market today.
I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but lately? Things have been going just great.
All the ladies are in town for Blogher, and I’ve decided to keep them on air mattresses in my living room forever. Though all the pillow fighting in our underwear is getting exhausting.
We’ve lived in this apartment for four years. The walls are thin and we can often hear our upstairs neighbor. I’ve often noticed a sound that I took to be the vibration of her cell phone.
Today I realized that I was mistaken. From our apartment, you can hear foghorns of the ships looking for port.
Stinson Beach Books is the “only bookstore located directly on the San Andreas Fault halfway between Dog Town and Jimmy’s Gulch.”
No One Cares What You Had for Lunch went to press today! I spent the day with my editor scrubbing the proofs. It should be ready around August 10, so expect your copies shortly after that. Thank you for all the kind words and the support. I can’t wait to read your shiny new posts.
Lately, I’ve been loving the spam with crazy subject headers that seem to be generated at random. A few of my favorites:
-Vulnerability hot chocolate
Enjoyable simile from a recent New Yorker:
“For lesser artists, this harmonically confident album would be a coup. But in the case of the Dixie Chicks it’s disappointing, like watching Muhammad Ali hurt a man’s feelings.”