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Goosey had a great suggestion yesterday. She took me to Books of Wonder, my favourite bookstore in the world I think, and we browsed nostalgiacally, and then she urged me to take an application. It would have been marvelous, but I was too frightened, because working in a small bookstore like that would mean interacting with customers and strangers and people constantly-- and kids. I was too scared.

(Yesterday in the elevator in my building, a little tiny girl, about three years old, planted herself in front of me and stared in fascination at my shirt, which depicted Mickey Mouse and Goofy being frightened by a hitchhiking ghost in the Haunted Mansion. "She likes your shirt," her mom explained. And then I smiled, and it was a moment in which it would have been highly appropriate for me to address the little girl and say something; anything; but nothing came to mind, so I just smiled awkwardly at her. That's what happens with me and little kids. Not even, "You like my shirt, huh?" Or, "Mickey looks scared, doesn't he?" Or, "Do you like Goofy?" or even, "Hi!" Nuthin.)

So then we went to see Holes, which was really, really good. I loved it. I want to see it again. You should see it. I went in not knowing anything about the story, and so I was a little skeptical, but it won me hard.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:14 PM | shower me with attention