Not only do I write in books, I love writing in books. Some of you are, without a doubt, putting your hands to your chest and sighing a yes. Some of you are making ugly faces. Tell me, which one are you? One of my favorite activities is to skim the pages of my books
Me: So how’s your day going? You tired? Did you eat well here or no? The Fly: Humans have no idea just how filthy their houses are. I’ll be living out the rest of my life here, Lady. Your house is a paradise. Me: How come you aren’t in the kitchen with the other flies?
Not long ago, I shared that I had gone to the used bookstore and brought home a new bundle of book babies. They’ve been getting cozy, and now I’d like to show them to you all. I have one or two copies of Robinson Crusoe already, but I couldn’t resist the raised texture of the
I’ve taken to writing in my underwear. It’s damned liberating. This past week, I’ve been doing my writing in one of these. The IKEA Poang chair is the best thing that has happened to my body in a very long time aside from my bike. Whenever I come up with something really good, I lean
And then I smile at her. And for the past two mornings, she has stared me straight in the eye and not so much as twitched a phony smile. It’s the oddest thing. I’ll try one more time tomorrow.
And, yes, even now, there’s no lack of crap. I know that this is a shocking revelation, but some of the so-called literature in many grade school literature books is crap squeezed between two covers.
So, I walked into my room last night and looked at my bed and thought, What the heck? Honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s always the same issue. My mornings look like this: I stare at my closet trying to figure out which type of a mood I’m in. I settle on something and put
Don’t you just love those people who are such storytellers that, even when you inform him or her that you’ve heard the story told before, he says, “Shut up and listen to my story,” and just keeps telling it? And we always end up smiling at the same parts, rolling our eyes, laughing out loud, calling out “Oh, whatever!” at
via Daily Prompt: Control Anthem by Ayn Rand showcases a dystopia of the distant future. It’s about society’s effects on the individual. I’d like to take some time to discuss how it’s ideas might apply to friendship and romantic love. These applications may be old news to you, but I’m excited to share my thoughts and see
Imagine this scene. You’ve had a long day. You are late to work as usual and looking to score some coffee. You’re willing to risk the walk of shame to get it. Lauryn at the front desk will give you the eye; your supervisor will glance down at her watch, sending a surefire signal that she