Tag Archives: dogs

Lazy Sunday: 10 August 2014

Y’all, I had a rough. week. I’m treating myself to some day drinks, a new dress, and an afternoon at the Gibbes. Enjoy these reads!

  • Let’s start with a buzzkill: Practice good password hygiene. (via Pableaux Johnson)
  • Casey Cep tries to quantify her soul with some ungodly Fitbit for mindfulness.
  • Fun fact: I will take your throat out with my teeth if you tell me to “smile” on the street. I guess there’s a solution now! The Smile Bitch Training Camp!
  • There is nothing, nothing, I love better than a charming man. Is there anything better than being dazzled? But what is charm? Benjamin Schwartz talks the rise and fall of charming men over at the Atlantic.
  • I have never watched a single episode of Seinfeld, and Chuck Klosterman is making me feel better about that.
  • If watching this compilation of dogs fighting boots doesn’t cheer you up, it’s over for you.
  • You probably heard that the New Yorker’s archives are free for the summer, but they’ve been around awhile and just thinking about all the stuff you want to read is dizzying. Here’s a great roundup from The Awl of some do-not-miss pieces.
  • The mysterious case of the Sherlock pilgrims, a group of people who travel to Switzerland and dress in costume to recreate the last hours of the detective’s life.
  • You’re bad at multitasking.
  • “Would you say she is your BFF?” “For your purposes, yes.” This is a great interview and I’m not sure who either of these actresses are. Solid work, Eric Spitznagel!

Fantasy Life Update: Dog, Fireplace, Magazine (I have acquired just one)

I am house sitting for my mom this week while she’s at a conference at the Arizona Biltmore (no, I do not feel sorry for her. The Biltmore was full, so the poor dear had to stay at the Ritz). My mother is probably the most terrifyingly perfect person in the known world. All of her plates match, she has 20 kinds of vinegar, her nails are never chipped, and no one has ever seen her without mascara at any time after 1972. I can almost guarantee you none of her socks and underwear have holes.
Which is why staying at her house is fun! I get to pretend like I personally have 5 kinds of salt, several bottles of wine, a gigantic shower (amazing water pressure, by the way), and one of those nifty electric kettles, but I don’t actually have to um…go out and get them? The best part of her house though, is this:

It’s snowing outside and I never want to leave here.

There exists, in this house, a tiny dog named Ceili, and she is absurd. She hates everything that isn’t sleeping and/or lying disdainfully on pillows near a fire (aka the only things I want to do). There is also a fireplace. The only thing, actually, that I brought to this, was my new copy of Lucky Peach! Do you read this magazine? It is the best!

So, in an effort to getting my actual life to more fully align with my fantasy life, I spent a full hour talking to The Tiny Dog (no response; has not yet mastered English), reading John Jeremiah Sullivan‘s article about preserved fruit, and pretending I own this fireplace. I’m getting closer.

The Freakin’ Weekend

Image

Oscar can’t move if you put anything on him, like, say, a scarf.

Hey, what are you doing this weekend? Tell me about it down below!

If you’re in Kentucky and so inclined, you could come to one of my events AND learn how to garden and square dance at the same time.