* My new favorite poem: I Planned To Have a Border of Lavender.

* This story about The Sex Change Capital of the World would be a great premise for a sit-com. Who would play the transgendered doc? Morgan Fairchild? Heather Locklear?

* Note to self: if the Diva and/or Dude makes it to the age of 16 without being able to do laundry or pack a suitcase, I will feel that I have failed as a parent. Not that I'm judging. No, scratch that. I'm totally judging.

* You know your career has taken an interesting turn when you are asked to do a road test of adult diapers.

* The politics of The Big Lebowski

* The NYT's Natasha Singer gets the writing gigs that I want. (The writing gigs that I want could easily be summed up as "editor says
to me, 'here. go do this strange thing for a week and write about it.'")  This time, Singer works as a nail tech during fashion week.

* My obsession with wee houses continues.

* There are just so many things wrong with this that it's hard to know where to start: Heroes of 9-11 Cross.

* I already passionately want to spend a night at the Mohonk Mountain House -- but this seals the deal.

* Poundy expounds on the "Bad Times" location of any given chain. In Knoxville, it was the Fellini Kroger on Broadway.

* I don't want to read the book that's being reviewed -- but I love this bit: "Herbert Wernham, a curator in the botany department in the early part
of the 20th century, enjoyed the company of prostitutes. When he died,
a card catalog was found in his office; on each card was a woman’s name
and a sample of pubic hair, like “so many delicately colored ferns.”"

* The only prayers we'll ever need.