Getting older means that every Halloween, instead of plowing through a truly alarming quantity of fun-size candy bars, one or the other of us is treated to the sweet sweet release of general anesthesia. Last year, it was me and my cataract surgery (jealous?). This year it was Andy's turn. Maybe I shouldn't blast it all over the internet, but he's fine, everyone is fine. Next year, maybe it will be my turn again, perhaps for a lobotomy. A girl can dream.
Also, Daylight Savings is so dumb. Of all the things we do as a society, collectively agreeing to time travel in a coordinated manner has to be the absolute stupidest. Wasn't this crap supposed to go away? I thought we legislated it out of existence? Somebody has some explaining to do.
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R.L. Stine taking a spin as a guest writer in Slate's Dear Prudence column might be the best thing on the internet this year, definitely the best in this fiscal quarter. His responses are refreshingly direct and downright bitchy.
Speaking of being old, here's an elder millennial breaking down the sub-generations of weariness within our age cohort.
And just for some more generational context...
Analog Reading:
Finished Meet Me Tonight in Atlantic City by Jane Wong. I enjoyed it. Interesting window into the experiences of someone who grew up in the same time and sort of same place, with such a very different life.
Sinking my fangs into Barbara Kingsolver's Demon Copperhead. Add this to your list NOW. I am as enthusiastic about this book as I was about Tom Lake, but don't expect this one to make you feel good.
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