A Visit From the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan.

When does a fake Mohawk become a real Mohawk? Who decides? How do you know if it's happened?

the melancholy time of not knowing.

In a work quest to find quotes from Charlotte's Web, I stumbled upon wisdom from E.B. White which spoke to me in subtle profundity. You go E.B., you go.





One of the most time-consuming things is to have an enemy.


This is what youth must figure out:
Girls, love, and living.
The having, the not having,
The spending and giving,
And the melancholy time of not knowing.

This is what age must learn about:
The ABC of dying.
The going, yet not going,
The loving and leaving,
And the unbearable knowing and knowing


I see nothing in space as promising as the view from a Ferris wheel.


In every queen there's a touch of floozy.




Advice to young writers who want to get ahead without any annoying delays: don't write about Man, write about a man.


Be obscure clearly! Be wild of tongue in a way we can understand.



As a writing man, or secretary, I have always felt charged with the safekeeping of all unexpected items of worldly and unworldly enchantment, as though I might be held personally responsible if even a small one were to be lost.

weekend at bernie's.

eat: crisp green bell peppers. cinnamon sugar donuts. on a homemade nacho kick. prairie thunder granola topped with bananas. panera bread tomato soup, so good in its general boring-ness. lido hot and sour soup. bon appetit magazine. coffee. walker bacon.

eishen's: fried chicken, fried okra and a pitcher of watery beer perfection. the fried okra, the fried okra, the fried okra. the drive out there, perfect Oklahoma night.

hilarious: bridesmaids. weekend at bernie's.

finished: easter parade by richard yates. really good - maybe my favorite in recent memory.

starting: a visit from the goon squad by jennifer egan. pulitzer prize winna, can't go wrong.

longing for: swimming pools. israeli caves where they make goat cheese - yes, i want so badly to come with.

food for thought: editing a story for the mag about urban chicken farmers and the mom of this adorable family emails me some information for her bio, snippets of which i just had to share because they are so genius and i would like to make them more directly applicable to my life in some fashion:

We live in the heart of Oklahoma City!! On an acre and a half in an old house built in 1940. We love older homes and room to run!

Well, my life is my husband and our four daughters. We all love to spend time outdoors, being together and doing things that are not of the ordinary, such as raising 10 chickens. And as long as we're talking about animals ( and not being ordinary) . . . I have let my girls have some pretty interesting pets. My oldest daughter has a pet Ball Python (that's a snake) and she has two pet rats. All of these are kept in aquariums and are cleaned once a week! That was my only stipulation; as long as I didn't have to do anything with the pets and I couldn't smell anything they could have them. My second oldest has a pet rat and the two youngest have a Beta fish each. We also have 3 cats and a Brittany Spaniel named Clyde. We also just received a Holland Lop Bunny as a gift. To me if they would rather spend time caring for animals and being outside than spending it on Facebook or texting or watching T.V., then that's o.k. with me.

O.K. My husband just read what I wrote and he about freaked and said we sound like animal hoarders so he wants me to tell you not to print any of that. Maybe you could just condense it so we don't sound crazy?

mrs. sip.

One of my favorite things about dating Walker is taking trips with Walker. Day trips, weekend trips, international trips - I treasure them all.

This past weekend we made our third (and likely final) trip to Oxford, Mississippi to see his sister Ashton graduate from Ole Miss.

I feel incredibly blessed that through the bottomless generosity of the Robins family, I've been able to get to experience this singular place, this miraculous other world.

The South.

I could spend hours upon hours gazing at the historic homes. Out of story books.

The way the kudzu completely takes over.

The huge, blossoming magnolia trees.

The telltale SEC bowl cut.

Ellen! Ashton's adorable pet bunny rabbit.

The names at Ashton's graduation ceremony: Daiquiri being the favorite.

The biscuits at Big Bad Breakfast.

My new favorite cocktail discovery at Snack Bar. Rose infused, yes please. I love the art form of it. Oh, and the Boudoin sausage. And the blackberry pie.

Square Books, maybe my favorite bookstore in all the whole wide world. The way I treasure my book purchases from there.

The long waits at restaurants that inevitably lead to drinking too much at the bar on an empty stomach.

Faulkner's grave.

The way I think of my scratchy-voiced AP English teacher with her lilting Southern drawl. Her complete disdain for high school students and her infectious love for The Sound and the Fury. Oh to have something in life you find that much genius in.

(a more comprehensive city guide via design sponge).

and you would wait tables and soon run the store.

I'm happy.

I love: my new job, sopapillas for breakfast via Cinco de Mayo, coffee, my boyfriend, arugala, Fleet Foxes, fascinating avian researchers at the Sutton Avian Research Center, cheesy Are You Gonna Kiss Me Or Not by Thompson Square, the Thunder, upcoming graduations, flowers in bloom, wafts of honeysuckle, ice machines.

Things I consumed at the Oklahoma City Arts Festival (over three seperate visits mind you): baked potato topped with brisket, cinnamon and sugar soft pretzal, fried peaches, grilled corn.

For now I've decided to still wait tables a few nights a week at The Wedge, because:
of my coworkers.
it's literally three minutes from my house.
it's nice to consider something "extra money." hahaha.
of slow Sunday nights.
of good beer sipped from plastic CocaCola cups.
of the accesss to such good, local food.




And now, some song lyrics (!!!)
Helplessness Blues, Fleet Foxes

I was raised up believing I was somehow unique
Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see
And now after some thinking, I'd say I'd rather be
A functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me

But I don't, I don't know what that will be
I'll get back to you someday soon you will see

What's my name, what's my station, oh, just tell me what I should do
I don't need to be kind to the armies of night that would do such injustice to you
Or bow down and be grateful and say "sure, take all that you see"
To the men who move only in dimly-lit halls and determine my future for me

And I don't, I don't know who to believe
I'll get back to you someday soon you will see

If I know only one thing, it's that everything that I see
Of the world outside is so inconceivable often I barely can speak
Yeah I'm tongue-tied and dizzy and I can't keep it to myself
What good is it to sing helplessness blues, why should I wait for anyone else?

And I know, I know you will keep me on the shelf
I'll come back to you someday soon myself

If I had an orchard, I'd work till I'm raw
If I had an orchard, I'd work till I'm sore
And you would wait tables and soon run the store

Gold hair in the sunlight, my light in the dawn
If I had an orchard, I'd work till I'm sore
If I had an orchard, I'd work till I'm sore
Someday I'll be like the man on the screen

it was inevitable.

Though I am now am in love with the name Pippa - I cared far, far less about the royal wedding than I thought I would. Even found it annoying.

However, I am loving these photographs. Maybe I would have been more into it if I'd been able to drink a Pimm's Cup in London's West End.

(dos): cool oklahoma things i've discovered on the job.

What teeny tiny bugs look like close-up!

Photography by Thomas Shahan. Highly recommend his flickr and website.

(uno): cool oklahoma things i've discovered on the job.

Feelin' It, Ryan Cunningham.

remember the weight of the world.

I Summon You, Spoon.

...I love this song! It's another one of those for me that's so sensory and tactile.

Sometimes, listening to old Spoon in my bedroom while contemplating all the multilayered emotions Osama's death is bringing out in me > Norman Music Festival (like my feelings on Urban Outfitters, maybe I'm getting old, but dear god, I'm so over it) (though swiiiirls at The Mont with Paige beforehand were perfection).