I actually don’t have a ding-dang thing to write about, nor do I have time to write it. I’m leaving in just a little smidge to go to two friends’ Big Numbered birthday party in Wisconsin, and you are kidding yourself as much as I’m kidding myself if you think I’m packed and/or ready to go.
But good God, y’all. Remember when I didn’t write about the misery of Israel/Palestine every.single.dang.day? I do. Barely. I miss those times. They were good. Good times.
And so some random stuff, off the top of my head:
- I learned on Monday that African Americans broadly share a stereotype of White Americans that we do not use washcloths — “just soap on body!” as one Twitter friend put it. I was gobsmacked, and protested. And tweeted out a picture of the washcloths in my linen closet because this calumny shall not stand.
- In the past week I’ve read Virginia Woolfe’s biography of Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s dog, Flush, and Austen’s Sense and Sensibility (first time), and Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 (I thought I’d read it before but now I’m not sure…?) and they were all delightful! (Though I had some real issues with Bradbury the writing is so… I mean, just wow… that I couldn’t help but drown in it anyway).
- The first two items came nicely full circle on Wednesday when I reached page 10 of my current book, The Girl Who Fell from the Sky, whereupon I read “white people don’t use washrags,” and though the book is beautiful and more than a little heartbreaking at this point, I laughed out loud.
- Vikings punter and over-all-swell-guy Chris Kluwe called out a racist for being a “racist shitpickle” yesterday and I have determined that I must add this word to my vocabulary. Post haste. I mean: Shitpickle!
- This is the cutest picture in the history of cute pictures, and you’re welcome:
Have a great weekend everyone!