Some Things I Like To Do

Cry: Oh, I just remembered this book I loved so much when I was a kid, and I spent about twenty minutes trying to find it online based on these search criteria: "Dog in kennel while family goes on vacation. Family dies in car crash. Possibly a Dell Yearling book. SO SAD." And I found it: The Visitor, by Gene Smith. Just look at that description, "When his master dies, Sassafras, an Irish setter, becomes a permanent resident of a kennel." BOO HOO HOO. I think I must've first read this book when I was around nine years old, and it became my go-to book when I wanted to bawl. It's funny to abruptly remember this, and to realize that one of my favorite activities, sitting in a movie theater--or in the privacy of my home with a book in my hands--with tears and snot pouring down my face, has always been one of my favorite activities.

Yell: Here's a good way to test out a possible name for your future child/ren: Holler it out loud, like you're calling the child in for dinner from your fictional back yard. I have done this to amusing effect with both sexually transmitted diseases ("Chlamydia! Come inside this instant, young lady!") and fonts ("Garamond! Helvetica! Dinner time!"). Just a suggestion. And note, I successfully named my own children Isaac and Zoë.

Walk/Listen: We have a houseguest these couple of weeks, cousin-auntie Lulu the hound dog. She has been a perfect guest, aside from one or two mornings when she decided she was ready for a walk at five AM. I've enjoyed taking her for a long stroll mid-morning every day. She sniffs all the smells and pees like a boy while I listen to a podcast. May I recommend Judge John Hodgman, in addition to my various NPR and pop culture favorites? It's adorable when a loud truck drives past and she bark-howls at it. She's so little, when you're used to a big old Gusdog.

Muse: I'm going to try to write in this lil' blog more often, because I'm feeling mute. I think it's the weather, which I've solemnly sworn (to myself) not to mention. I can sum it up, and my feelings about it, by mentioning at this point my suspicion that we may skip spring and summer this year and go right to fall. In which case I am moving to the desert.

Watch: Please go see The Grand Budapest Hotel. I loved it so much. And maybe you'll enjoy the web series High Maintenance as much as I do. And perhaps you'll grow to love The Bridge, as I have despite my initial reluctance (I wanted to watch the original, set on the border between Denmark and Sweden, which Mark thought sounded much less interesting than the American version, set on the border between El Paso and Juarez. "Why don't you want to watch it?" he asked, and I was all, "I don't know. Just, Mexico."). But it's pretty great, if dark and with the chopping of bodies and their parts and so on.

I like the beach. I like dogs. I am tired of always wearing these boots, and this sleeping bag coat.