The woman that lives beneath Dave and I is adorable. A week ago I was letting Ned out through the back gate and as I was going back up stairs, this elderly woman materialized from the darkness, smoking, and she talked with me about everything. How she and her husband don't sleep in the same bed anymore and how she has a grown son whose thirty and how I need to be careful of drug dealers in the alleyway because, unlike her, I don't have a dog to protect me. She has an adorable beagle named Daisy thats chubby with a raspberry looking knot on the top of her head. She also was telling me some fable about this neighboring town was having a civil despute so the citizens moved the whole town, brick by brick to settle this social injustice and how she loves Savannah because her synagogue is here and how the jewish community and the gay community are the best kind of community because they don't want your money. I tried to add things to the conversation like "I know, it WAS terrible that we lost power on St. Patrick's Day" but I was only met with awkward pauses. The whole conversation was already punctuated by "How do you say..." and "I mean, you knows..." that I just gave up on and listened. Dave and I don't know her name or husband's name (who by the way looks like Bill Murray a little bit and was walking the dog while wearing a pink pineapple printed collared shirt).

I just finished a little story for an anthology of childhood stories. This is page numero uno of three.

And the results on the This American Life shirt contest came back and I totally didn't win. Or make it on the website. But it was totally worth the shot you know? There ain't no reason to be a scaredy cat no more, bout nuthing. You can't wait to be sure, you just gotta move move move. Ya know?

Finally,
my favorite song.



The actual music video is HERE.