Lessons from today

1. Need to start going to bed earlier. A fact that became startlingly clear when I put my bra on backwards.

2. Walking around with an adorable new puppy is essentially a public service. My friend Kelly's dog, Piper, had her face rubbed by approximately 15 strangers tonight in Hyde Park in the span of roughly two hours. It's a socially acceptable thing to do that doesn't require permission, really; it's a puppy, and we're compelled to touch it. Facts of life people.

3. It's time to answer the truly pressing question: what am I going to do with all that junk that's in my trunk? Because yesterday, the trunk bumped into a poor woman holding hot coffee, causing it to spill it all over her lap.

4. While I love Nancy Pelosi, I'm not sure I will love her new book, because it sounds a little boring.

5. Death is always a little weird, but especially when it happens to someone your own age, and you happen to be in your 20s. Like Heather. Heather McGaughey was a girl in my grade at my tiny college, Southwestern University. She passed three years ago, and I never knew her well, but I think about her so often. Her personality was one that throws into stark contrast the "living" versus "non-living" dichotomy, precisely because she was so lively, vivacious, loud and charming. She was an actress, after all. I envied her during my first literature class at Southwestern, because she always said smart things, and I envied her even more when I saw her perform on stage.

So, Heather, here it is. I really, really miss you.