One of the good things about having a famous brother is you get free cookies when he does a book-signing, and in the Q&A session you get to ask him probing questions that he has no choice but to answer.
Did you know there are people whose job it is to drive visiting writers around to signings? Laura, the delightful woman who was guiding Jay tonight, does this for a living when she’s not in Calcutta where she works with a nonprofit that helps prevent trafficking of women and girls. There were seven dependent clauses in that sentence. I’m sorry. Anyway, she has also rafted the Kali Gandaki where I’m headed in two weeks.
I ran into an old radio acquaintance who is one of my Facebook friends. In parting, Laura said she’d be my new Facebook friend too.
Oh, I also got to see my sister-in-law My-Lissa (The Giant Mole) and that was a Very Good Thing, even though she’s not one my Facebook friends. My sister-sister is also my Facebook friend. I am very friendly, as you can see.
I had just remodeled my living room when lava started seeping in through the base of the front wall. Within seconds a grey, steaming, bubbling skin had covered the floor leaving only tiny bare patches of oak. Suddenly I realized: Damn, I shouldn’t have turned on that lava machine!, which I guess was a feature of my remodel — maybe a cutting-edge, green way to heat my floors? I went to flip off the switch but nothing happened: more lava. I had nowhere to stand, and it was totally wrecking the finish.
As I write, again and again I keep hearing footsteps clomping up to my front door and then receding. I hypothesize that they belong to political activists who are reading the sign I put out there:
No soliciting, no matter how worthy your cause. Thank you.
Yesterday Stella and I got our shots, for rabies and flu, respectively. I didn’t really need that “respectively,” did I?
I’m feeling increasingly guilty about leaving her for so long. She’s getting mopey and hiding in corners a lot. So when she looked longingly at the toys on the shelf at the pet food store, I had to indulge her. I didn’t buy her this…
But she really wanted this one stuffed pig. She really did. I could tell. I thought it might comfort her while I’m gone. Notice that the first thing Stella does, once left alone with the pig, is to sniff its floral butt.
By the way, Polly Piggy is “created for interactive play” (as opposed to other dog toys) and is also a “really tough toy but still vulnerable.” It floats, and comes with the promise that it will be my dog’s “best friend and companion for hours of fun and enjoyment.” Here’s Polly five minutes later.
Sorry to do this to you, but there’s just too much amazing political stuff whizzing around out there for me to let it all fade into my memory.
There’s the exceptional Don’t Vote video that Lulu forwarded me (which Sarah Silverman hopes will go viral, “rampant… like herpes— but for… positive”) and another that Lulu found at boingboing.net about Palin’s brain:
Here’s one my second exhusband scooped me on. Matt Groening just gets more brilliant, unless he’s like Martha Stewart and claims the brilliance of his minions as his own, but I don’t choose to believe that.
And here is some more political commentary, this from the hands of the bearlike, growly Mark Bulwinkle:
