When I was eight years old, my family lived in rural Italy for a year.
An entire YEAR.
My mom's journal must've been over 1,000 pages by the end.
According to mine, though, only three things happened.
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eloquence
A Few Words /
I have returned from a week in Northern California. There were innumerable noteworthy moments. But the extent of my journal entries?
"monkey ball dream speech"
"cluster shatter"
"California has so many kinds of containers!"
I'd blame the fact that I was sick as a dog the whole time, but clearly there is a precedent for such negligent behavior:
(That upside down teardrop was a nice touch, if I do say so myself.)
:-) /
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Spice up your communication with the League Store's "Emoticons" collection!
And so it began. /
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poor Monday. so vilified.
Why e-Readers Will Never Win Me Over /
Recently, this Slate article introduced me to the artist Nina Katchadourian, whose work is infused with a whimsical sense of humor that is utterly delightful. All of her projects are worth checking out, but the Sorted Books series is particularly dear to my heart...
...reminding me as it does of that time I noticed this happy accident on my own bookshelf:
Yay for books!
What a difference a day makes... /
Happy Birthday! to my dear and devoted friend Becky, who has been putting up with my nonsense since kindergarten.
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On Cod Wedges, Etcetera /
A Selection of Terse & (mostly) Scathing Reviews From My Brief Career As a Food Critic:
The growing repertoire of "career" fiascos can be seen here.
