It only just occured to me that morningstar farms has to pay somebody to eat real meat so they can know whether or not corn dog formula 118 tastes more or less like actual corn dogs than corn dog formula 116.

The world is very complicated.

If you're like me, (and I've always suspected you are) you're tired of listening to the 8,000 sum-odd songs in your iTunes playlist,
even the ones you just got last week.
hmmmm . . .


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It is.

Outside.

Living entirely in Nashville coffee shops takes more skill and careful planning than I typically let on.

Sunday's are the trickiest.

Portland Brew, the coffee shop where I spend the most unpaid time, is closed.

So I'm left with Bongo or The Frothy Monkey. Very different places, but still usually a toss-up. Today I went with Frothy because it ( Read more... )

I accidentally shut Lilah in my closet before I left for work at 6:00.
I heard her mewing for me when I got home at 2:45.


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People who know me would probably assume that my Personal Food Hell would consist of jars overflowing with mayonnaise, ranch dressing, tartar sauce, and the like.
They would be wrong.
I mean, that would be awful and everything, but I could either just not eat for eternity or learn to like the stuff.

No, in my Personal Food Hell, everyday will ( Read more... )

I started a Nashville Mac community called,
of all things,
nashvillemac.

Join it
if you dare.

This is not a picture of the woodchuck that has spent the last couple of days hanging out in view of my balcony:


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I like Regina Spektor ( Read more... )

Last month I finally got a cell phone.
This week I made this inevitable ringtone
(just for when E. Lemley calls).