1. Yesterday morning I killed the m.f. mosquito that kept me from comfortable sleep the last, like, three nights. I wanted to scream war chants of triumph. I hate that mosquito. It was insatiable. I am waiting two more weeks and then I am taking my window unit out of my window and having the super install a screen. Otherwise I know that more mosquitoes will come. It’s been rainy all week. These goddamn mosquitoes.
2. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful Zibilee has told me the title of a book that is the exact book I want to read right now. Wonderful wonderful Zibilee! And is going to send me her copy! It’s too early for Book Blogger Appreciation Week, but I just want to say right now, Zibilee, you are marvelous. You write long in-depth book reviews which I always enjoy even though we often read very different sorts of books; and you always leave incredibly nice comments; and you recommended me The Sandalwood Tree, an epistolary novel about the Raj that also does that thing I love where it’s one timeline person learning about someone else from History.
3. My roommate got a typewriter and does not mind me using it. Indeed she encourages it. Indeed when I am typing and she is in the room, she says, “I love the way that sounds!” Her typewriter, of course, is not as good as my little blue Smith-Corona typewriter at home, which is a more pleasing color and has a more pleasing ding at the end of the line. But still it is lovely to have a typewriter.
4. Orson Scott Card has written — and I have to tell you this by writing it, because when I try to talk about it I start laughing really hard (in an appalled sort of way) and can’t speak — a book called Hamlet’s Father that is a retelling of, you know, Hamlet. In which apparently, Hamlet’s father turns out to have been A Gay. And a pedophile. As The Gays are. And abused Horatio and Laertes and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern in their youth, which is why they now are also all Gays. Because, you know. That’s how that works. Oh Orson Scott Card. I loved you so much when I was in my early teens. I have shifted my spec-fic loyalties all to Neil Gaiman, who is, in addition to being a wonderful author, a really nice person. Twitter has responded to Orson Scott Card in its inestimable Twitter way by inventing the hashtag #buyabiggaynovelforscottcardday. In particular I throw my weight behind Fun Home and all of Sarah Waters’s oeuvre. And Mary Renault. And Oscar Wilde. And Helen Oyeyemi (my imaginary friend). And The Color Purple.
5. The New Pornographers. I just like them. I listened to the New Pornographers a lot this week, and they made me happy. Also, the Muppets’ Green Album, which is very well worth buying on iTunes or Amazon. It is a little hipstery but don’t let that stop you.
6. FOOTBALL FOOTBALL FOOTBALL FOOTBALL. Football! Is back! My beautiful Saints! My darling, dearest Saints! We did, yes, lose to the Packers yesterday, a loss that I lay at the door of a certain rookie running back out of Bama. But I am still so, so happy to have football back again. We have some exciting new players including Darren Sproles, the Lightning Bug!, whom I adore. I drafted him for my fantasy team against the better judgment of Captain Hammer, who was in charge of making sure I drafted a good team. Also, this commercial? Truth in television. And oh, gosh, I sure do miss Louisiana.