Friendship = Yay = Cupcake = Mango

I’m with my friend Tim this morning on a study hall date. We get together once a week and do dissertation-y type work. He’s up against a tight deadline, and I’m up against my poor work habits. I’m also full of poundcake, which doesn’t help the brain. Boo.

Lovely Stan put up a post with some of the poems that were shared at my book release. I LOVE the poems. And not just because they were written for me. Check it out here.

There was an article in the New York Times online today about how widows tend to be better at maintaining relationships and therefore don’t feel the need to remarry. It’s kind of a sad statement on masculinity that men are far more likely to kill themselves. But, talking with my significant other and other guy friends I have, this is not a phenomenon limited to old age. Many of my male friends seem fairly emotionally isolated, though they have friends.

If I didn’t have friends, I think I’d be a very strange person. I’d probably talk to myself a lot.

It’s all the things I think to write down.

I was biking up Cecil B with my friends Caro and Stan when this woman shouted at us–“Michael Jackson’s dead!”

We didn’t know what to think. I sat with Caro on the bus for 45 minutes as we headed up to Germantown. Some people were talking about it in front of us. We were exhausted and sweaty. It turned out to be true. So long, Michael! Some people seem like they’ll never die, but keep going on and on into a strange eternity.

Thinking: chicken wings. No no.

About to read: Race and the Avant Garde by Timothy Yu. Waiting for Chris and Melanie to show up. Concocted some sangria with cinnamon sticks and vanilla bean.

Foot status: heels still hurt. Grrrrr.