R E A D I N G I'm in between books -- I just finished a long, heavy (awesome) book, and to cleanse my palate, I read this fluffy "pink book" in a few hours. It was a mindless roll your eyes and tear up at the same time kind of book -- exactly what I needed. Right now I'm trying to decide between a WWII love story and a novel about being black in the United States -- both birthday gifts from Y's parents. They pick the best books.
W R I T I N G STOP NAGGING ME. I'm writing this, aren't I? Baby steps.
L I S T E N I N G to Haim and She & Him. Pure summer.
T H I N K I N G about everything that's happened since I last put any effort into blogging; and what parts are interesting enough to share. I mean, do the people want to know about the best cheeseburger in Minneapolis? Do they want to know about that time my friend stole a member of Rebirth Brass Band's trombone? Do they want to know about that time Ike pooped out a whole cherry tomato? These are the perils of being a blogger.
S M E L L I N G clean dog smell. Almost as satisfying as new car smell.
H O P I N G that the edible things growing in our garden -- the mint, the tomatoes, okra, sweet potatoes, and apples -- actually keep growing.
W E A R I N G holiday pajama pants. That's how I roll.
L O V I N G biking. brunch. bloody maries (marys?). kayaking. waterfalls. the happiness emanating at the gay pride parade today. basically everything about this weekend.
W A N T I N G more excuses to use our patio. Or as we like to call it, our veraaaaaaaaanda. (see photo above)
N E E D I N G a lot of sleep. We went on an impromptu 10 mile bike ride in flip flops after eating the most unhealthiest of lunches (poutine, people. french fries smothered in cheese curds and gravy. it doesn't get any grosser/more delicious.) and I could probably fall asleep standing up.
F E E L I N G tired and happy and blistery and full. And sticky. As nice as summer here is, I still kind of hate the feeling of being sticky all. the. time. Whether it's from sweat, sunscreen, or bug spray, it makes me all... bajiggity.
C L I C K I N G two New Yorker articles. "The Lottery Letters" takes me back to my eighth grade creative writing class where I first read (and was mildly horrified by) The Lottery; "Company Man" by David Sedaris reminds me that I basically want to be Mr. Sedaris when I grow up. Also clicking this music video, eight times a day, every day. I think Pharrell saying ERRBODY GET UP needs to be my alarm in the mornings.