Smash cake

At an online first birthday party today (my second of quarantine), the guest of honor was presented with a lovely cake, covered in sprinkles, for eating and smashing and smearing frosting (in this case whipped cream) all over everything.

So what did he do? The first thing every child does when presented with a cake, of course. He stuck his foot in it.

It just made me giggle. He figured out the hands part, too. Eventually.

Slipper socks

I finally had to close my windows the other night because my heat kicked on while they were open. Which is far preferable to 90-odd degrees, I think.

I left one window open and turned off the heat, because I've liked having a breeze. I pulled my blankets tight. But I was still cold! And then I had an aha moment.

In the back of the pajama drawer, I found an old pair of socks with grips on the bottom, purple with green frogs. They're old and holey and kept my toes warm and made me grin.

Long conversations

It's very easy to feel separated right now, but there are a few things that make me feel connected. Namely, long mostly meandering conversations with people who mean a lot to me. I got to have two of those today, and I feel richer for it. Phone calls are the best.

Winchester Mystery House

I've long wanted to go to the Winchester Mystery House, a wacky, sprawling mansion in San Jose. But I've never been there, and have never had plans to go, so it's just been on a someday list.

Until tonight!

The house has a 40-minute video tour that I watched with some friends, and it was kind of amazing -- I mean, it solidified my desire to go (even though someone who has gone called it a tourist trap) instead of making me feel like I'd seen it. It was weird and interesting and made no sense, all in the best way possible.

And it made me feel like there's a way to do at least some of the things I like doing, even if I can't actually get to them.

The height of fashion

I pulled a pair of sweatpants out of the drawer that I had apparently not worn for a very long time, because I could feel the elastic cracking and crumbling as I pulled them on. The waistband was soon far too large, and with no elastic spring, they were suddenly eight sizes too big.

What's a girl to do? I suspected the other pants in that drawer were in a similar condition; after all, these were the ones on the top of the pile! But wait -- there was a rubber band. Perhaps that could solve my problems.

I gathered the extra waistband (into a very unflattering silhouette), wrapped the rubber band around the excess and voila! I had pants that fit!

It's absurd and mostly functional (I did have to re-wrap the rubber band two or three times today) and saved me from doing laundry for another day. And luckily, when I forgot I was holding my pants up with a rubber band and went outside anyway, there was no one else around to see me. Success!

Friends forever

Haaaaave I mentioned I'm watching Project Runway? (Yes, yes I have.)

It's a nice distraction in the midst of ::gestures wildly:: But I guffawed recently when one of the designers -- who I happen to like quite a bit -- walked into the workroom humming a song from Saved by the Bell.

It's catchy, isn't it? You can't go wrong with Zack Attack.

(Also -- if you're looking for a wonderful novel depiction of the rockumentary, I can't say enough good things about Daisy Jones & The Six. Super refreshing read.)

Peanut butter M&Ms

Yeah, I know, there's a lot of food on here these days. What're you gonna do? It's how we're all spending a lot of our time.

Among the snacks I got to get me through quarantine was a giant bag of peanut butter M&Ms.

They've long been my favorite M&Ms because they are delicious (first of all). They remind me of a friend from high school, who would always let me borrow money to get some from the vending machine when we we stayed after school (as long as she got to eat the green ones). And the Bee's social media team has gotten in the habit of bringing all the interesting M&Ms flavors to the workroom, so they make me think of that, too.

I had a long meeting to watch today (four hours!) so I rationed a handful of peanut butter M&Ms to help me get through it. They did the trick.

Favorite teachers

I came across the name of one of my favorite teachers today -- he's on the board of an organization I get emails from (apparently). While normally the names of the board members aren't part of the correspondence, there was something about the latest COVID-19 update that got a list of names at the bottom.

I texted a friend who'd also had him, and she told me she'd been thinking about him yesterday, for unrelated reasons. It was nice to have that moment of connection.

And it made me think about the on-a-piece-of-paper lectures he'd hand out for us to read, and the one time they came with cake. Plus the time he broke a desk by banging on it to wake someone up, and the story about dyeing his hair green and plenty of instances from As I Lay Dying or The Old Man and the Sea.

Recipes

I'm a decent cook, but I definitely am not used to doing it seven nights a week. While there are things about it that can be frustrating, I'm trying to think about the parts that allow me to be a little more creative.

Normally, if I saw a recipe that looked interesting, I'd send it to myself, save it for many months and maybe remember to try it at some point in the future. Now, the things that look interesting are getting made much faster -- especially as I eat my way through ingredients.

I had a bag of spinach that wasn't going to make it much longer. I'd normally make lasagna (but I have no ricotta) or a salad (so few things to put on it) or a tofu dish (just not in the mood). Ah ha! That recipe I'd opened just a few days before for a vegetarian version of carbonara had spinach in it.

I didn't quite have everything I needed, but it was close enough. Add some homemade bread with a lemon chive butter and it felt like a fancy lil meal.

Curdled milk

I was heating up milk for hot chocolate tonight when it began to separate into curds and whey. The milk didn't taste spoiled when I put it on my cereal this morning, so I wondered if there was something I could do.

To the internet! I did some googling to see if there was a way to reconstitute it (not really) or if there was anything else I could do with it (why yes).

So I boiled it more, drained off the liquid, pressed the curds and added sugar and a dash of vanilla. I wouldn't tell you to rush out and do the same -- it was just fine -- but it was exciting to turn what I had into something I could enjoy.

Kindness

Over the last week, I've been the recipient of four types of cookies, one loaf of challah, two face masks and some Purell. I'm so lucky to have some wonderful bakers/sewers/sharers in my life.

You're so vain

Because how great is this, from a story about a town overrun by peacocks?

"He showed the crowd a photo of a city employee’s Toyota Prius that had deep scratches on all sides. He said the peacocks see their reflection on the side of the car, mistake it for a rival and attack with their beaks."

Heating pad

One of my assignments at my first job was to go to a school where students were studying something to do with entrepreneurship and had created products that they would sell to their classmates. I don't remember if they used real money or fake (my guess is the latter), but I remember perusing the various items that the elementary or middle schoolers had made and not really seeing anything that I, an adult(ish) person, needed.

And then! One kid had made those microwaveable heating pads that are basically a sock filled with grains. His were cloth rectangles that he (or a relative) had sewn together and I immediately knew that I wanted one. Mine was fuzzy blue material and this kid was so excited that I was getting it from him. I wish I could find the story, but I still have -- and use -- the heating pad. I did last night. And I think of the smile on that kid's face and I wish I could tell him these (12? 15?) years later that I still use this little thing he made. He's probably a college grad now, maybe is deciding what adult(ish) things he needs. I love the thought that he's got one of these, too, and there are a whole group of us from this classroom sale still excited about these heating pads (which have held up so well).

Yum

My sister brought me dinner, which was such a nice surprise.

It was delicious, too, which was no surprise at all.

You're never fully dressed

You know, I din't go very far these days. So the temptation to work in pajamas wins out ... quite a bit. I think I do feel better when I'm wearing real clothes, but that doesn't stop me from not doing it.

Today, I took a mid-afternoon hot shower (which was also pretty wonderful) and then pulled a dress from the back of my closet. It's not the fanciest dress -- it's the kind that I'd wear to a casual brunch wedding (and have!) but haven't put on recently. Maybe it's out of fashion. Maybe it's not the most flattering. Maybe my style has changed. At home, it's the right outfit for the occasion!

I'm going to a (Zoom) birthday party tonight, too. So I'll look a little fancier that my PJs.

The group text

My family's group text is making me laugh out loud tonight. My parents sent a Jeopardy! question that my siblings all got right, then they pivoted to ask us what wrong answer the contestants gave instead. It became a rollicking conversation about what constitutes a Midwestern city and whether James A. Garfield has anything of note named for him. (Is it a cat? I think it's a cat.)

Slippers

My freshman year of college, a friend got me these adorable, ridiculous Winnie the Pooh slippers. (They're not exactly like that, but giant heads are the point I'm trying to make.)

I like Pooh! They were really sweet. And I wore them very occasionally because they're juvenile and cumbersome and it's easier to slip on flip-flops or walk around barefoot. Y'know?

But in working from home -- windows open, a cool breeze -- I have worn them so much more than I used to. And they are snug and warm and I see a giant yellow head every time I stretch my legs. So great.

Book club

I've been going to the same book club (practically) every month for nine years, so it was a bummer when it looked like that whole staying-at-home thing was going to put a damper on it. But lo and behold, Zoom. We were still able to meet.

I most appreciate the thoughtful, intellectual (and often not) conversations we have about characters and choices and motivations. And especially working alone in a room, I was really glad to be part of a long, windy conversation with a bunch of smart women.

And amazingly, we (for the most part) didn't talk over each other and conversation just flowed.

Plus, a friend (who I hope also enjoyed it -- if not the book) was able to join, too, from another state. It was great to see her face and to hear her weigh in on the book, too. So I feel a little closer to her and to the group, both.

FPS

I've participated in the Future Problem Solving Program since I was in fourth grade, and I'm thrilled to have been an international evaluator for the past few years. As part of it, I've been reading stories written by students about what they think the future might look like, good and bad. They're wonderful. And it's been so nice to see their creativity and their attempts to use big words properly. Plus, it's given some direction to my weekends for the past little while, which I have very much appreciated.

Such a Millennial

Why have I never thought of this before?

Also, a delicious roasted cauliflower dish from a recipe sent by a friend.

The breeze

It's gotten warm lately, but there's a chill in the air today and it's so nice to feel the breeze through my open window, even though I'm still indoors.

Also - I don't know that this is happy, per se - but I was really pleased to see this well-deserved takedown of the company line at The Plain Dealer. The owners are doing some really lousy things right now, and getting away with it. I'm glad it isn't also going on under the radar.

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

Sitting outside in a park on a gorgeous day, a more than acceptable amount of space between my sister and I, makeshift masks on our faces, a three-dimensional conversation.

Greek

You may have never heard of the TV show Greek (or maybe you love it!) but I was so happy to rediscover it last night on Hulu. I used to love it, but for some reason never watched the last season. I'm doing that now, and it made me laugh out loud. Which was such a wonderful thing.

Orchestra

One of my old co-workers tweeted out a link to a Cleveland radio station that's playing an hour of music from the Cleveland Orchestra over lunch each day. I was able to listen for about 30 minutes. And let me tell you -- it just made me exhale.

I don't think a lot about classical music (it's fine!) but I love the Cleveland Orchestra, one of the best in the country. It was so refreshing to listen to. And it reminded me that at least once when I was working in Cleveland (and maybe more than once?) I was able to sneak out of work with some coworkers to listen to one of their rehearsals. It was a great experience, watching them work toward perfection.

If you also want to listen at lunch, do so here.

For the birds

A receipt from the olden days, when you used to go to restaurants and eat food, that had the server's name on it. His last name was Cockatiel. I don't know if it was real or make-believe, but it made me smile.

Cavaliers

Cleveland sports teams, historically, collapse. There is a laundry list of moments where one team or another had victory in its grasp, only to collapse spectacularly and leave fans -- and a city -- heartbroken.

Then, in 2016, the Cavaliers won the NBA championship. And whatever words I use to tell you how amazing that was will be insufficient. It was a moment of joy I honestly never thought I would experience. You may think I'm crazy, but if you're from Cleveland, you understand.

I had saved the final game of the series on my DVR and would watch it when I was having a bad day -- as a reminder of that moment and a reminder that what is in front of you is not necessarily forever.

I know I'm not the only one, but it definitely made me smile today to see that in action in my Twitter feed, where someone posted the final seconds of the game and the ensuing celebration.

Oh, it lifts my mood and makes me smile. And as so many people are missing sports right now -- for the sports themselves, for the connections they create, for so many other reasons -- I was so glad to see 30 seconds of a four-year-old basketball game. Happier than I would have expected such a thing to make me.

Work

My job has periodic weekend shifts and I worked one of them today. It was quiet, as far as those things go. But I'm thinking today more about gratitude than happiness. And in the midst of this ridiculous time, I'm grateful for my job, even after a Sunday shift.

I talked to another reporter friend today whose employer is laying people off and I've seen plenty of it in the industry. Journalism is not steady and likely won't be for some time -- if at all. But for the time being, I'm not worried about losing my job each day and that really means a lot.

This evening, I interviewed someone who's seen a lot of impact from the coronavirus. We talked for an hour and we'll talk again. And I'm grateful to her, and plenty of others over the years, for trusting me with her story.

Lost in time

Remember how I told you I was thinking of Billy Pilgrim coming unstuck in time? I am apparently not the only one who is having a hard time with when we are.

As such, I was very amused to learn I am not the only one who needs help with when it is. (Watch the clip! Then go to the thread and watch the next one! Day Two is even better than Day One.) Thank you, TV news, for that assistance.

I don't know that they're representing Cleveland well, but they are representing Cleveland. And it gives me a fabulous excuse to link back to this, from the same station, about a neighborhood bear sighting.

It never doesn't make me laugh. Thanks, TV news, for some levity (at least mostly intended).

Sharing stories

I love to read, and I love talking about the things I read (and want to read). Lucky for me, a friend has been indulging my desire for book (and other!) discussions in email chains for some time now. He sent me a fabulous short story several weeks ago, and I suggested another one in return. I was thrilled to see in an email today that he liked it.

Even more thrilling is that he's working on his own writing -- and asked me to read it. I'm so stoked to eventually see what he's been working on and really honored to have been asked. (I may have responded in all caps. I won't tell if you don't.)

Spellbound

I've been to the Scripps National Spelling Bee eight times, and I somehow had not seen the documentary Spellbound until tonight.

If you, too, haven't seen it, it's available on Tubi for free and documents the path of eight students to the 1999 Bee. It's, uh, more casually racist in the beginning than I would have expected. But then it's a delight. And knowing that I'm not going to the Bee next month (like many other things, it's not happening as originally scheduled, if at all) it was really spectacular to see it in action 21 years ago. The film cameras! The hair! The clothing choices!

There were a few things in particular that delighted me, having been a part of the program for the better part of a decade:

• The calming tones of Mary Brooks, the head judge, and glimpses of other judges.
• Dr. Bailly, then the associate pronouncer and now the head pronouncer, asking "What's a Corolla?" in response to a speller's question. (This is totally in character.)
• The eventual 2000 winner, George Thampy, as an 11-year-old who went by "Georgie." He's also a judge now.
• Seeing the childhood bedroom and rivals of Nupur Lala, the winner, who I became friendly with after meeting her as an adult.
• The amazing, incredible, brilliant kids trying so hard and with such verve.
• The words! Zwieback was in an alphabet book I made in fourth grade; I swear I heard xeropthalmia (which also has a fourth grade reference for me); and of course kookaburra, he of the old gum tree.

(Dr. Bailly more recently, gettin' jiggy with it.)

This was not my favorite day of the quarantine, so those smiles were more appreciated than they would even have been on other days.

I've also been listening to Fountains of Wayne after learning that Adam Schlesinger died today. You probably know Stacy's Mom, but there's so much more that he did -- including writing That Thing You Do! and many of the songs from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. It's a loss and I'm bummed about it, but glad that I'm able to listen to his music and that a little bit of him can live on.

The best kind of petty

A friend was lamenting that her boss is making people write up short bios for daily updates that are getting sent out. They include hobbies, something the employee is grateful for and an inspiring read.

While well-meaning, my friend reports that it's actually awkward and inauthentic.

One of her coworkers, similarly frustrated with the edict, decided to troll the boss with her book pick.

She thought about Lolita. 50 Shades of Gray. The Bible. But her ultimate pick of A Little Life was so much better than all of those.

If you haven't read it, A Little Life -- which sounds like it could be an inspiring read! -- is pretty much the darkest book I've ever read. It's absolutely gorgeous, with wonderful statements about friendship and how people grow. (Like, so good that I took pictures of paragraphs and sent them to people!)

It's also absolutely gutting, and not in a Nicholas Sparks kind of way. It's an inspired choice.

But please don't read it to feel better about anything. Unless other people's (fictional) misery somehow makes you happier.

Runway

I've been watching episode after episode of Project Runway, which is an excellent distraction from, you know, the world.

Tonight I finished season nine (and no, I did not start from the beginning). But I paused it midway through the finale to Google the woman who eventually became the winner, Anya Ayoung-Chee, because of an off-hand comment one of her brothers made during the family-visit-check-in.

He mentioned that people used to tell him how beautiful his sister is, but now they comment on her talent, too. I thought it was strange. She is pretty. But would people really stop you to tell you that your sister is gorgeous, they same way they would if she was a talented designer on a TV show?

Turns out the answer is probably yes if your sister is Miss Trinidad and Tobago and a contestant in the Miss Universe pageant. So.

It made the earlier comments from some of the (jealous) designers make more sense, too. But I was super impressed by her and amused to know more about her background. Plus, it looks like she's still designing clothes! The season eight winner is now a consultant. Bleh.

More family time

How refreshing to have a Brady Bunch-style Zoom screen filled with 25 siblings, cousins, in-laws, spouses and children (though not in 25 pictures, and not all 25 at the same time). We talked Tiger King (which I apparently really need to get on) and healthcare workers, how well the kids were walking and how the work-from-home was going. We saw cartwheels and a race. And we agreed to do it again in a couple weeks.

Game night

Today featured a four-hour family game night (that started in late afternoon) where the highlight was a monster dating game where you had to text participants to try to get them to go out with you. My family members swapped names (mostly) in previous games, so it was particularly hysterical to send messages to name-shuffled family members trying to get them to spend time with you...while also not telling them about your particular monster-like tendencies.

In the end, I ended up on a date with my brother, just as I predicted. (In the past, when the two of us have been out with our parents, he's been given the check as if it's a double date. He is horrified. I think it's hysterical.)

Plus there was a brief appearance by a very cute child. And I slept til noon, which I so desperately needed.

Sing Street

Luckily, my friends have better memories than I do. Because one texted me tonight to tell me that a movie she'd told me about before was finally streaming and I should drop everything and watch it. (OK, she didn't quite say that, but it was definitely implied.)

The movie was Sing Street; it's Irish and about a boy who forms a band to impress a girl he thinks is cute and it made me smile so big. It takes place in the '80s and the characters try on all these '80s music personas, which is adorable. And the songs are good! Which is great.

Anyway, if you have some free time (and perhaps you do, what with not leaving the house), it's worth a watch.

I'm so good at yoga

(This is actually veryyyyyy far from the truth.)

But the most exciting thing to happen today is that a friend who teaches yoga decided she was going to livestream classes. The timing worked today for me to hop on. And it was so nice -- it was nice to do it, but also nice to feel encouraged by a friend! I've never taken her classes before IRL, but she was great.

And then we started an email exchange when I thanked her for doing it. And it's been a long while since I've seen her, so that's great, too.

Other positive things today: what's become a weekly dinner date with some friends. A walk outside for the first time in forever. Grey skies and crisp air. A Crazy Ex-Girlfriend meme. Cooking real food (of a sort) for the who-knows-what-time in a row. Peanut butter M&Ms. (They're sure to make a repeat appearance.) Various forms of contact with various people.

And it was yesterday, but I made a super tasty martini (or two) with some hazelnut espresso vodka I brought back from Portland last year. Yum.

It does matter

Text from a friend today:

"Just read an article you wrote ... and it made me unreasonably happy to see your name on the byline."

It's a stressful time (you may have noticed) and work is kind of crazy right now. So it made me unreasonably happy to know that stories were being read, and read by people I know who are appreciating the work. Thanks, friend. It meant a lot.

Downpour

I'm enjoying lying in bed, listening to the rain. It sounds like a rainstick in the middle section, when everything is going at full force and you wonder how it manages to make that much noise.

Spellebrations

Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist has been making me smile for a few weeks now. But it gets a bonus post today because of a plot point that involves not one but TWO characters being past winners of the Scripps National Spelling Bee.

You already know how much I love the bee. So you know I was amused.

Happy birthday!

Sure, it's a weird time to celebrate. But what a nice distraction to get an email from my cousin suggesting we gather online to celebrate his son's first birthday (a month late)?

Some of us ate cake, we all sang, we argued about things we have no control over and most people failed to notice my sister's friend popping in and listening for a few minutes. Just like any other family party!

A weird way to celebrate turning one, perhaps, but at least we got to celebrate.

Cassata cake

I thought it would be a good time to clean out my freezer, and what did I find in the back of it but two Tupperware containers filled with cassata cake -- a Cleveland specialty that features fresh strawberries and whipped cream.

(This is my sister's homemade version.)

They've been there for years, so I pulled them out to make room for something more practical.

I left them on the counter, assuming they were freezer burned. But as they defrosted, they looked.... fine. Good. Like they were edible.

And then they were.

If I knew that, I might have left them in there for when things get more dire. But they're defrosted. So I ate a piece (it was delicious), and stuck the rest in the refrigerator. They'll lift my spirits over the next few days. And now I've got room for another loaf of bread in the freezer. You know, the necessities.

Letters

Well, now. This blog started in the depths of the Recession, then has gotten precious little use in the subsequent years. But global pandemic and the anxiety that comes with it seems like a pretty good time to dust it off and find those things to smile about again -- no?

I can at least try to be more active here.

On day eight of working from home and day seven of not leaving the house (and if we're being honest, before that) I started to think about Billy Pilgrim, and how he came unstuck in time. I wrote an essay on that book (it was bad) and in trying to find it, I pulled out a box of letters I'd saved.

One was from a friend from high school upon my graduation, telling me about the first year of college and telling me if we didn't keep in touch, it had been nice to be friends. Luckily, we still do -- and I could send her a picture of the card so she could marvel at how neat her handwriting had once been.

I also grabbed a stack of letters from a camp friend who had become a middle school pen pal. We'd fallen out of touch in high school, but reconnected a decade later -- give or take -- when I moved back to Cleveland. I sent her some pictures, too. We may try that pen pal thing again.

It's nice not just to have the jolt of nostalgia, but also to have a reason to reach out to those friends (both of whom I'd been talking to in recent days anyway). It made me smile to see the evolution in each of them, and I hope it made them smile to see them, too.

Red handed

I just had to share this story, about how Genius Lyrics coded its apostrophes to track when someone (in this case, Google) copied them elsewhere online. It's just fascinating, and the choice for Morse Code translation made me smile.

Around the world

One of my favorite things about Atlanta is the diversity -- and the diversity of food, which lets me eat my way around the world.

On Saturday, I had tamales at a Mexican restaurant, followed by cream buns at a Korean bakery. I stopped at a Polish grocery store to restock my freezer with pierogi and ate Japanese food for dinner.

And none of them on Buford Highway!

I usually don't hit that many in a day, but what fun to cross continents in that way over just a few hours.

Racing stripes

On the way in to work this morning, I heard a song that made me smile. It included the lines "my dog has racing stripes" and "I named my dog Springsteen, cuz it was born to run."

Of course, I tried to find the song when I got to the office. But the internet isn't cooperating, and it's nowhere to be found! Do you know this song? Can you find it for me? I'll be forever grateful.

Swearing in

I came across this tweet:
https://twitter.com/emilynussbaum/status/1082336816412454913
which asks what book one would be sworn in on, if not a religious text.

I love the variety and thoughtfulness of the answers -- from "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" (it says "Don't Panic" in big letters right on the cover!) to "A Tale of Two Cities" to "Everybody Poops."

Mine? "The Phantom Tollbooth." Easy.

It's a game!

It's so nice to see old friends, and I was so glad to get some quality time with one friend over the weekend. It's been too many years (years!) since we've seen each other. And while time alone is enough to make me smile, this made me grin even bigger:

That's right. It's a Kinder Egg board game. I'm thrilled that it exists, and that I know people well enough that they will see weird things and thing of me and save them for a year until they can hand them to me in person.

(For the record: The word game is a bit of an exaggeration, but it was still super.)

Washboards

Nearly a decade ago, I dragged my friend (hi, friend!) to see the last remaining washboard factory in the United States.

She was at first resistant, but then loved it. We learned that the primary customers tend to be musicians and people who live off the grid, and we both went home with a lot of washboard paraphernalia.

I sent her this picture over the weekend, of washboards from the same factory in a south Georgia home I was touring. It made me grin to see it, and to share it.

(She replied with a long line of hahahas, and that made me grin, too.)

New life

It's a warm February, and the leaf debris that had gathered in the crease of my car's trunk apparently had some seeds in it. With sun and some rain, they've begun to germinate, and now I have a tiny garden in my car.

This isn't the first year this has happened. But I was delighted last time, and I'm delighted this time, too.

I did not realize

That it's been this long since an update.

But over the past several months, I've noticed hearts. On telephone poles.

They're roughly the size of a piece of bread and tacked up, seemingly at random, around Atlanta. Sometimes I zoom past them, and sometimes I inch closer to them as I'm stuck in traffic.

They make me smile every time I notice a new one. So I'm sharing with you.

It's a good day

When I get an email that begins "Dear Depraved Sickos."

(But no, for real. I laughed out loud.)

Abstract Sunday

Hi, Internet.

I make no promises that I will visit with more frequency, though lots of people will be looking for more things that make them happy in the coming weeks and months.

I'm happy to share with you something that pleased and amazed me today, though, as I'm sitting in the office the day before Thanksgiving, waiting for my phone to ring.

I've long been a fan of the artist Christoph Niemann, who I first discovered through his NYT columns. He hasn't published them in a while. But I stumbled across him today somewhere else, and it led me to his Twitter feed, and man, is it a delight.

Click through to see some amazing illustrations, as well as interviews and other fun things. It made me smile. I hope it brings you joy, too.

The left wing of a goose

The Olympics always manage to capture my imagination. I can't help but be fascinated and amazed by the work, the drive, the effort that goes into getting to the games -- regardless of the outcomes.

And while I've been fast-forwarding through a lot of the pre-packaged video pieces, I've been reading a fair bit about the games. (Let's be honest -- I've always liked reading more.) In doing so, I came across this gem related to the creation of badminton shuttlecocks that I just need to share with you:

The shuttles themselves are intricate creations. Yonex orders thousands of goose feathers a year from China. The feathers are then trimmed to size and matched by color, flexibility and other factors. Only feathers from the left wings of geese are used in the tournament shuttles. Satoshi Yuza, a promotion manager at Yonex, chalked that up to aerodynamics.

Can you imagine? Only the feathers from the left wing of a goose go into competition-level shuttlecocks. What a weird, beautiful thing.

Keys

Do you see this?

This is a tiny piece of paradise.

I spent the early part of the week in the Florida Keys on the invitation of a friend who I love to pieces, and hadn't seen in too many years. Being there made me smile, of course -- I mean, that was the back porch. Look. It's gorgeous. -- but it was the invitation that made me happiest. It's so nice to know that connections are kept, through distance and time.

We swam, and swam, and swam. We talked. We explored. We ate delicious things. And, I like to think, we refueled a friendship that I hope will last a long, long time.

Also, she shared this with me.

That's a book recommendation by Judy Blume. Who owns the bookstore. That we were standing in. (I've read the book and loved it. Judy and I are essentially BFFs now.)

We missed seeing her there, but being in her space was pretty awesome, too.

Downtown perks

My office is in the 'burbs, and though they're densely populated 'burbs, they're not very walkable. And while there are some things that can lead to grins in suburbia, you'll notice that I was a much more prolific writer when I was working downtown. (Albeit in another state.)

So a change in job duties has led me to spend more time downtown. And that's led to a couple things that I want to share with you.

First, taking public transportation to work means more time with books. And more time with books always makes me happy.

Second, I saw someone rolling a Coke machine down the street on a dolly yesterday. Just pause for a minute and imagine a vending machine walking down the road. It's a beautiful thing.

Third, I ran into two people I know on the street last week -- both in the same day, at that. One was a new friend who was also working downtown, and we'll hopefully grow closer and see each other more after running into each other. The other is my future sister in law, who was downtown to get license plates for her car.

Unless you work in the same building as someone, you're just less likely to run into them on the street in suburbia.

Today, 10:30 a.m.

A white-haired man driving by in a red convertible, top down, the seat next to him covered in a bouquet of bright flowers.

It was a weird day

And it ended with an email from an FBI agent that read, simply:

:)

Books, books, books (and a bonus)

A post in three parts (and a bonus):

Today -- for the fourth time in recent memory, which is indeed a dangerous thing -- I stumbled upon Bag Day at my local library. This means that you can fill a grocery bag full of for-sale books for super cheap. In today's case, I spent $12 on two paper bags full of books. Luckily (because my shelf space is severely limited), I intend to give some of them away. I also came out with the John Green book I went in for, which was the original purpose of the library visit.

In the free book bin, I found a book of poems by Billy Collins. I was lucky enough to see him converse with Paul Simon last year, and I really loved the poems he read then. But I haven't sought out any others, despite intent. When I picked up the book, the co-worker who put it there saw my face. "It's gone to the right place," she said.

I got in the mail a book I lent out maybe two years ago. I'd forgotten just how beautiful it is. You should definitely read it. And now I have my copy back to lend again.

And! What else should come in the mail but a blue canary! For putting in the outlet by the light switch! (It's already there.) It was totally unexpected and I am super stoked!

Landline

I come to you after months of delinquency because I wanted to jump up and down with excitement at work today, and no one there understood my joy.

There's this super, fantastic, wonderful author (Rainbow Rowell) who I want to be when I grow up, and whose books I adore. (I've read two.)

We have a free book bin at work, and her latest -- which isn't in stores til July 8 -- was there. I snagged it. And now it is mine.

I'm super thrilled. So is my sister, who has devoured the two I've read and will be taking this one from me as soon as she can get her hands on it.

In today's news

I'm eating a delicious golden apple that I picked myself. It's crisp and flavorful and subtle and yum. There are new shoes on my feet, I'm almost done transcribing an interview I feel as if I've been typing forever, and there was the odd sight this morning of people standing on the roof of my office building.

Plus, there's snow in Cleveland. I'm not there, but I'm living vicariously through people's Facebook pictures -- with the added bonus that I don't have to drive in it!

Of people and ice cream

I've been absent for a while, but meaning to return. Today, a few things convinced me that it was time for a post.

Driving into work this morning, I saw a well-dressed man walking on a wall, instead of the sidewalk next to it. He hopped up like a little kid. It was grand.

At the office, a co-worker who I don't know very well rushed over to me excited. She'd overheard a conversation I had yesterday about the opening of Jeni's ice cream here. And what should arrive in the office, but six pints in dry ice?

It's delicious and amazing and wonderful and a little taste of home, of course. But it's the thought, too. And Jeni's opens tomorrow, so now I can go any time I need a fix.

And speaking of fixes, in another sense: I've been reminded in recent weeks and months that I know some really wonderful people. I really have been valuing the time I get to spend with them, and wishing I was closer to -- and therefore got more time with -- others of them. So thanks, people. It means a lot.

I hope they did this on purpose

Kansas and Toto are touring together.

You're welcome.

High places

A former governor just told me he's looking forward to reading my story.

And that's pretty cool.

In touch

I still have a number to get through (some of them to some of you, dear readers), but I replied to several emails this weekend that I've been putting off because I wanted to give them the time and attention they deserved. Aside from the simple sense of accomplishment that one gets from hitting "send" and moving a message out of the inbox, it makes me happy that even through questionable timely response skills, I'm able to keep in touch with people who are meaningful to me, and who are far away (or sometimes close).

And also, work compliments. Being told you're doing well never gets old.

Feb. 14

I brought these to work last week, and gave them away to co-workers and friends. More than the Valentines (which are so cute!), I loved the box they came in. No batteries required! Paper-folding action!

Just wanted to send my love to those of you I couldn't hand a Valentine to, too.

Stay (I Missed You)

I have fond memories of a concert in college where Lisa Loeb played with Dweezil Zappa, and I'm pretty sure I can still sing all the words to Stay (I Missed You). Today, I saw that Lisa Loeb is coming back to town, so I sent an e-mail to one of the friends I went to the show with to see if she might want to recreate our evening.

She replied enthusiastically, which is awesome. Even more awesome? The second person I emailed -- who was at the concert with us (even though I didn't remember that she was there) emailed another friend, who now lives in Texas. I haven't seen this friend in nearly three years -- since her wedding -- but she's going to fly in for a visit and the show. And I'm thrilled to get to spend some time with her, and with this group of people.

Lisa Loeb: bringing friends together.

Because it's time

I've been meaning to write something for a while, but work and life and general bumminess have meant that instead, I haven't taken the time to pull out the marvelous and share it with you.

But it's the last day of January. And I got an email from a friend -- one who means a lot to me, and one whom I always mean to talk to more than I do -- imploring me to update more often. She's right.

I still don't have a lot of time or energy tonight (so that e-mail I've owed for several months -- and the newest one -- will be yet delayed).

But I can share this, from a trip I took earlier this month to a land of snow. It was a friend's first snowman and (hopefully to the delight of the aforementioned friend who wants me to update more often), his name is Nigel.

Enjoy him. We did.

Today so far

This morning, here's what made me smile:

On the radio: "It is Friday. That's when we bust out the Tom Jones."

From the corner of my eye, I saw what I thought was a zebra on my morning commute. Atlanta has a history of zebras, so while surprising, this wouldn't have been unusual -- well, less unusual than a mountain lion. Turns out it was a Hummer painted like a zebra. Which was still pretty great.

And then, a middle-aged man riding a bicycle with a basket, wearing a reflective crossing-guard vest.

(As an added bonus, there was also a man on the sidewalk in a bright pink leg cast. I felt a little bit bad for the cast itself, but love that he chose bright pink.)

Memories

It's Nov. 1, which means everyone who didn't want to keep their Halloween candy has kindly brought it into the office for the rest of us to eat.

This is a strange leap, perhaps, from Halloween, but the candy on the table -- a lone packet of SweeTarts, in the midst of Tootsie Rolls and Tootsie Pops -- has made me nostalgic. In fact, I always get nostalgic when I eat SweeTarts.

When I was in high school, one of my best friends would always buy a long roll of the sugary, colorful candy. They would get passed around orchestra, and we'd put down our bows to pop SweeTarts onto our stands and into our mouths. I don't know that it was ever codified that SweeTarts would arrive on a daily basis in orchestra, but they always did -- even on concert nights, when we were all dressed in skirts and suit pants, and we needed to be much more subtle as we passed the candy around.

I always liked SweeTarts.

I stopped eating them, though, my sophomore year of high school. My friend -- his name is Josh -- was diagnosed with cancer. He died that same week.

I know this is a blog about things that make me smile, and that doesn't sound like something very happy at all. And it isn't. But here's what is: whenever I see SweeTarts I think of Josh. I have to eat them in his memory. I smile as I reminisce about him passing them around orchestra. The candy makes me think of throwing snowballs at stop signs while we waited for the bus, or of movie nights in his basement. It makes me recall his big smile and his infectious laugh and the first time someone called me and launched into conversation without first identifying who was talking. SweeTarts were hard for me to eat for a long time. But now they bring back good memories.

So I'm sitting at my desk, popping SweeTarts, and thinking of Josh. And the fact that so many years later, this little candy can bring back such vivid memories of a person who meant so much to me really does make me smile.

Saturday

Here are some things that are made of awesome

Right now, I am eating a Honeycrisp apple.

My father was quoted on the front page of the newspaper, above the fold.

My sister scored a White House press pass and took photos of the president.

I saw people juggling fire on a church lawn.

And Jens Lekman puts on a really good show. (I like this song a lot.)

Reading time

When I checked my email today, I was temporarily taken aback by a note with the subject "Library Notice." I have a sordid history with library notices and, I thought, I'd been particularly careful to return my books on time. So I was concerned that I'd missed one, and would now have to pay exorbitant fines.

Imagine my relief when the library notice instead was sent to inform me that a book I'd requested -- and didn't expect for another month or more (the waiting list is SO LONG!) -- arrived at my local branch!

So now I get to learn what's next for Katniss and the gang. And while I didn't love the first book as much as a lot of other people seem to have loved it, I am looking forward to seeing how the adventure continues.

Drunken Stool Making

There is so much happiness in my life at the moment.  I am visiting with my sister in Takoma Park, MD, and Sister Love is always a good thing!

Last night, however, was the joy of joys that only a sibling can bring.  My sister and I have a tradition of drinking heavily and watching bad romantic comedies/teen romance movies when we visit.  Last night was no exception!

The best part of the night was in the conversation that follows.

Chrys: Do you have any tools?  I want to put together your stools...
Lauren: Oh!  Yeah! I was planning on putting those together once I got drunk!


My Family is special.
My life is happiness.

Maybe?

This morning, the so-called song of summer (maybe) came on the radio on my way into work. Unless you've been under a rock, you've heard Call Me Maybe pretty much everywhere.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I kind of love this song. But the real reason I love it is this dramatic reading of the song, which I must have listened to at least a half-dozen times.

It still makes me grin so big.

Also! This exists! I haven't listened yet, but I'm way excited about the mix.

Poetry

So, I know the newest U.S. Poet Laureate.

And that's kind of cool.

Also, I'm nerdily excited to tell you that I'm now the proud owner of a library card to the Library of Congress (which is where said poet laureate will set up shop come January). In case you were wondering, despite requiring a photo and a signature, it is not an official government ID.

Playing the blues

On my flight back to Atlanta last weekend, the pilot played harmonica over the loudspeaker while telling us how long we'd be in the air, and how many miles we would traverse.

He was actually pretty good.

Next week

Y'all, it's nearly spelling bee time. And as you know, I really like spelling bees. A lot.

So you can imagine how excited I am to go this year.

Watch the bee! Maybe you'll see me.

On the road

Three vehicles worth noting:

• An open-backed truck, like the ones people use for landscaping equipment, stuffed with helium tanks of various sizes;
• At a construction site near my office, a truck that says WATER TRUCK and underneath it, in smaller letter, NON POTABLE WATER;
• A truck with a trailer full of donkeys (the sides were down, so I could see the donkeys) with what looked to be a handmade, carved bumper decoration that said, "HAULING ASS."

Ode to a Pear

O, pear you are
juicy and awkward, requiring me
to slurp you up
before I chew. I eat you with
a pile of paper towels,
soaked through. Your bulbous bottom
bumps my lip, your tiny stem
evades my grasp, your subtle core
hides beneath pearflesh, a sad surprise
when I bite seeking more fruit and find, instead,
something new. I eat you and think
of Jelly Belly candies, of summer days, of
my mother, who loves the flavors you
imbue. I will not bake you. You are
a fruit to be devoured raw, dripping, sticky,
sweet. O, pear, you may frustrate my desires
to elegantly consume, but pear?
I savor you.

A thousand kinds of awesome

I discovered this blog today, about a month after it ended. It's a similar idea to our little Internet-place, though certainly that one was much more disciplined in the author's daily postings, much more universal in its aim and much more widely read. It even spawned books!

But I'm cool with all that (for so many reasons!). Because now that I've found it, I can link you to 1,000 other reasons to smile.

I've only read three or four so far, but I love the combination of seriousness and whimsy. And the fact that so many of them mention farting.

Smiles all around

I have a big grin on my face for two reasons.

The first is that even though I talk to executives and important people with a kind of regularity, there are still some whom I get excited about. Particularly when they're chatty and friendly and generally jovial. I just got off the phone with one such CEO.

I e-mailed a friend of mine to tell him that the conversation made me think of him, and the response I got made my smile even bigger:

Your email made me smile :)  (well, YOU make me smile, but I settle for email from you when I have to).

He's far too far away (despite efforts to move him closer), so we have to settle for email more often than I would like. But I'm just so glad that we've been able to stay (close!) friends despite the distance, and I'm glad that my grins are contagious.

New friends

My grandfather's a pretty tech-savvy dude. He knew what Skype was before the rest of us did, and was sending me text-to-voicemail messages before I even knew it was possible. I still don't know how to do it.

But he never thought there was any reason to join Facebook, calling it a waste of time.

This weekend, I got a friend request from my grandfather -- who turns 90 this summer. I haven't talked to him yet to find out what changed his mind, but there's something so wonderful about seeing a 1922 birthday on a profile page. So I had to share.

I can only hope when I'm going-on-90, I'm as on top of the latest technology and happenings and whatnot as he is. Wicked cool.

Coffee in Brazil

I have a Fancy New Car -- who has yet to be named -- after Webster valiantly protected me from a collision several months ago.

This new car has many cool things going for it, one of which is satellite radio. Another is BlueTooth. Now normally, I'm not someone who gets all excited about car radios or hands-free technology, or even technology at all, but this morning -- while I was calculating how long it would be until the free satellite radio ran out and I would once again be denied Big Band tunes and commercial-free commutes -- I had an epiphany.

At traffic lights, I fiddled with my phone and with my radio. And right as I got to work, I discovered this: I am able to stream my favorite radio station through my phone and listen to it through my speakers, despite the fact that I'm three states away.

I only got to hear two songs this morning, but they were coffee-themed and adorable. And so I went into work this morning grinning, and humming about coffee in Brazil.

Take a gander

On my way home from work yesterday, I saw two geese. Crossing the street. In a crosswalk.

The first one to get to the curb nibbled on some grass before hopping up and out of the way.

It was predictably adorable.

Also? There's a swath of road on my way home that smells amazing. I don't know what kind of flowers or trees or naturey goodness is planted there, but it's delicious and immersive. So I always make sure to go by with my windows down.

First world problem

I was expecting nice, sunny, warm weather while in Zurich. Instead, it's cold and rainy. Rain can ruin fun. It can ruin plans. Plans like going hiking on a glacier.

I might have to go to Paris for 3 days instead of staying in Switzerland because the weather in Paris is (allegedly) lovely right now, and will be for the next week or so.

Darn.

(Aside: the trip to Paris would be with the boyfriend, and we'd be there on our one year anniversary. Awwwwww.)

Afterlife

It's a sad start to a happy story, but in this column, a Toronto Star reporter met Shelagh Gordon at her funeral. The columnist describes Shelagh's as an ordinary, magical life -- and I think her description is apt.

The writing itself is straightforward and lovely, but it's the person who Shelagh was that is most extraordinary. Because -- pardon me for being philosophical -- it's the person who all of us are. She didn't invent anything extraordinary; she didn't save the world. She just made a difference to a lot of other ordinary people.

And it's the project itself that put a smile on my face. The Toronto Star sent reporters to Shelagh's funeral, and interviewed more than 100 of her friends and family members about her life.

It's ambitious, and difficult, and it could have gone a lot of different ways. But the story it tells is a strong one. It's how Shelagh will live on for her family, for her friends.

There are a lot of thoughts rattling around in my brain about the idea of meeting someone four days too late (as the columnist describes it), or the joy and sorrow of writing about someone after they've died. But I'll leave them to rattle and instead encourage you to read this lovely profile and be your own "good deed doer... tradition keeper... moral compass," or whatever it is you are. And thanks to all of you for the smiles you give.

On pollen

It's pollen season.

If you haven't spent any amount of time in the South, this probably doesn't mean much to you. If you have, you understand that this is a strange thing to make me smile.

But it does, in part -- in large part -- because this pollen season has been worse than any other. The pollen has hit record levels. The pollen is falling from the sky. The pollen isn't just covering cars in a film, it's covering everything in a thick, impenetrable blanket.

And it reminds me of snow.

I'm lucky in that it doesn't make me sneeze and itch and want to be indoors (knock on wood). So I can marvel at the way the wind moves the pollen on the ground, and smile at way it comes down in clouds and feel like I have some semblance of winter, even though it's in the 70s, and no one got any winter to speak of.

Love is in the air

Aside from getting to hang out with an old friend I don't get to spend nearly enough time with since she moved away, this is what made me happiest this Valentine's Day.

They're just so wonderful.

Love to all of you!

Compliments

I worked on a breaking news story yesterday that was unlike what I usually cover, and ended up being on the front page of today's paper. (Woohoo!) That's fun in and of itself -- it's always nice to make A1 -- but the coolest part was when one of the editors came by today to praise the authority with which I wrote and tell me the story worked perfectly for the front. And we have some exacting standards.

On top of that, my immediate editor told me last night that my batting average has been great -- that I come up with good ideas and write interesting things. And that, too, is nice to hear.

And while it's not a compliment per se, I received a really interesting opportunity that I'm taking as one. It's wicked cool. Y'all'll surely hear more about it if it comes to fruition. But for now, I'll just tell you that it made me smile.

Shuffle

Sometimes, it's the smallest, silliest things.

The weather was pleasant this morning, in the high 50s with sun and clouds. And I had my iPod on on the way to work when Elmo's Song followed Annie Lennox. Do you know Elmo's Song? It's sweet and catchy and fun. It's Sesame Street. It just makes you smile. Well, it makes me smile.

That's enough, in and of itself. But then? The coup de grace? A few songs later, what came up but the theme song to Transformers!

As my college roommate (hi!) can tell you, the Transformers theme song is the one that always managed to play (somehow, the randomizer on my music-playing program really, really liked the Transformers) and always managed to play at the most inappropriate times. So it took everything I had not to burst out laughing and/or sing along. (I was on public transportation at the time.)

The book I just finished referenced Optimus Prime toward the end. I wonder if through some kind of music-shuffle-magic the iPod knew and thought, finally, that it was an appropriate time for Transformers.

On foot

I haven't had a car for a couple weeks now, and while it's been frustrating in its own way, there's also some good that's come of it. Namely, by taking public transportation to work, I've had more time to read. I think I've gotten through five or six books so far in January; that's much faster than my normal weekday pace.

It's not the first time I've used public transportation instead of my car, but it's the first time I've done it not by choice -- and the first time for any extended period in Atlanta. Sure, MARTA leaves much to be desired route-wise and otherwise, but I have to admit that I feel a little better about myself for walking to the station and walking to work and maneuvering the lines to still go out on occasion.

Also, taking the train provides me with many more opportunities to get hit on by guys with bottles in paper bags. And those always make for good stories.

My favorite thing today

I've been meaning to post about several things that have been making me happy: unexpected Honeycrisp apples, having options and the ability to make choices, baked goods, delicious chocolate, time with friends, celebrations and making new connections among them.

But for now, I want you to know about this.

It's the latest hashtag-of-wonderfulness, about the Muppets. And Communists. And, just click (on the "this"). It'll make you smile, too.

My favorite that isn't on the list: @owillis: "Just how much of America's tax dollars was used to send pigs to space, sir?" #GOPMuppetHearings

Boys and girls

I'm having way too much fun today learning that I write like a boy. Spoiler alert: I am not a boy.

This comes about as a result of a conversation with a friend, wherein I mistakenly called a male author a her based on writing style. She called me a sexist (it's kind of her m.o.), and then analyzed his writing to find that he did write like a girl. Redeemed!

Since then, I've been putting piece after piece after blog post into the above-analyzer. At best (i.e., most feminine) I write like a weak male. Possibly European.

I'm intrigued.

You can read more about the gendered writing here. And if y'all have long enough samples, I'm curious as to how you write.

Can't complain about their customer service

I threw up on my 2007 Macbook last week. All it affected was a few keys. Apple said, "Sure, we'll fix it, no problem, leave it with us! ..... Oh, wait, it's a biohazard and we won't touch it, so come back and pick it up." Despite this, they still disassembled it... and didn't put it back together properly. When it wouldn't turn on after I got it back, I called and complained.... and they gave me a new 13" Macbook Pro, released a mere two weeks ago.

F-A-N-T-A-S-T-I-C

As those of you who know me know, I'm a gigantic fan of spelling bees. Gigantic. Like, I host a spelling bee viewing party every year. They are so much fun. (Don't believe me? Watch this, one of my favorite-ever spelling bee moments.)

So when my sister texted me to ask if I had any questions for the director of the Scripps National Spelling Bee, I said yes. (Actually, I said, "OMG probably," but is now really the time to split hairs?)

Moments later, my phone rang. Soon, I was on speaker phone, talking to Paige Kimble.

The first thing I asked her? Her favorite word, of course. And if she could spell it.

For the record, it's Ouaniche, and she can. It's a kind of salmon. She always wanted to get it in a spelling bee, but never did.

We talked a little bit longer about why the bee's on ESPN instead of ABC (I shouldn't hold out hope of it going back on network TV), what she likes about the bee (keeping an old-fashioned skill and experience relevant to the modern world) and how the bee is becoming more popular internationally, and at viewing parties like mine. Before I let her go, she asked me what organization I was with, telling me I sounded very professional. (As a question-asker, I should hope so -- that's what I get paid to do!)

And then I squeed a little to my sister, who pretty much knew this would make my day.

Thanks, darling. And thanks, Paige, for keeping spelling bees alive.

For the birds

My sister is back in the country now, but she spent the summer studying abroad, with only sometimes-Internet. As such, getting an email from her was always exciting.

Particularly amusing was this one, which she sent to my siblings, my parents and myself:

So I was sitting outside a cafe for the past few hours and I made this comment, "I feel like a tree." Since there were leaves and pine and things all over the place. Then a bird pooped on my arm, not two seconds later.

Of course, that made me chuckle.

But what really amused me was the subsequent string of emails between family members, where we all recounted our own bird-poop experiences. Mine was at an amusement park and, as I recall, we subsequently went on one of the water rides ad nauseum (although, let's be honest -- we would have done that anyway) until I was comfortable with the fact that it had been rinsed from my hair.

From my brother:

I got pooped on once, too. I was walking to class in the rain and didn't notice til I got onto campus. I tried to wipe it off of my jacket with my bare hand before I realized what it was. That was unpleasant.

And from you?

Of hashtags

Last year (Was it last year? It was not -- it was Dec. 2009!), we brought you the fantastic hashtag #washingtonpostcorrections. Today, I share another: #JerryMealsSaysItsSafe. (You should click that link, if you click no other links in this post.)

Jerry Meals is a Major League Baseball umpire. In the 19th inning of a Braves/Pirates game Tuesday night (that actually ended Wednesday morning at 1:50 a.m.), he made a widely debated call at home plate, saying that a runner who was tagged out was actually safe. That meant that the Braves won the game, and it knocked the Pirates -- who were in first place in their division (and for the Pirates, this is a feat!) -- back out of the lead.

I hope I didn't lose you with that background. Now, angry Pirates fans (and others with a sense of humor) are making lists of other things (Well, OK, click this one, too.) that Meals says are safe, that are as far as far can be from safe.

Some examples:

• WhyteDynamite: Think I may go for a ride in a zepplin this wknd. I've always wanted to look down at Earth and smoke cigarettes. #jerrymealssaysitssafe
• DBergz13: jumping out of an airplane without a parachute cuz #JerryMealssaysitssafe
• uncleyucki: Playing Russian roulette with a fully loaded gun. #jerrymealssaysitssafe
• hamsandcastle: An island full of dinosaurs in captivity? Count me in! #jerrymealssaysitssafe
• jesslag: Gonna cross these mountains with my new friends the Donners #jerrymealssaysitssafe

There are more about Casey Anthony as a babysitter, Amy Winehouse's drug ingestion, playing in traffic and condom use -- among other wonderfully inappropriate things.

Read. Giggle. Enjoy.

Not only is it not June...

But it's almost not July, either!

So I must tell you, briefly, that I had my first Sunday front-page story. Which is a big deal! And as cool as that is, you know what's even cooler?

The fact that when I told my brother I had a Sunday front-page story, he went out and bought the paper.

Brothers can be cool sometimes.

I'm gearing up for another wedding blitz, so I'm sure there will be many smiles about.

And y'know what else? August brings visitors to Atlanta. I'm excited to see you guys, loyal readers, you.

Of golf carts

Once a month, it seems, I remember I have a blog.

Today, I recall its existence to tell you about golf carts.

The humble golf cart has provided me with many moments of joy, key among them adventures in Southern climes with a dear, dear friend.

Today, I saw a truck filled with golf carts -- like the trucks you see on the highway full of cars, that defy the laws of gravity by how they stack them. Yes, that. But golf carts. It was so amazing.

(The Internet is not helping me find pictures of said wonder, but apparently there is a trucked-up version of the golf cart. Seek for yourself!)

Those of you who are loyal readers (hello, fellow once-a-month posters!) know that one of our own is to wed next weekend. I'm also thrilled to be a part of the festivities. (And, last weekend, to have participated in the nuptials of another good friend!)

And to close: a shout-out to parentheses, which have helped me greatly today in my writing, and in my life.

See you in June!

Not a robin red breast

Apparently, the area I live in has bird feeders about. This morning, as I walked toward my car, I saw a cardinal feeding at one.

There's something about cardinals that just makes me happy. They're so vibrant and bright and vaguely cartoonish with their mess of red feathers that they immediately add color to a day. On top of that, they're also the state bird of Ohio, so they remind me of home.