July Week 5

I feel myself getting rapidly older. This morning, I looked at the oats canister, and my first thought was nice young man. Look at him. If you ignore his white hair, he’s practically cherubic.

Did he always look 35 years old? I’m kinda scared. I genuinely used to think this was the oldest man on any food container. Now I’m thinking he must’ve been a freshman when I was a junior.

Anyway, if you haven’t checked it out, Sex on Murder Island is now available for purchase, both as regular book and audio. It’s the sequel to Murder on Sex Island, and I thought these two titles back to back would be clever and intriguing, but I’ve since learned no one can keep them straight. Not my parents, not my husband, not even the people at Penguin Random House who published both books. Just to get it out of my system, I came up with some even worse sequel titles.

The sequel to And Then There Were None: Oops, There Is Actually One Left

The sequel to Mother Daughter Murder Night: Grandma Grandson Prison Day

The sequel to Where The Crawdads Sing: Where The Lobsters Go To Grind On Each Other

The prequel to Murder on the Orient Express: Just A Regular Train Ride Where Hercule Poirot Tries Scrambled Eggs

The sequel to The 7 and 1/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle: 15 More Deaths! Why Won’t You Die, Evelyn?

Okay, enough of that, passions this week include: pebble ice, eating ice cream at home, and putting stuff on the stoop.

I can’t stop chewing on ice, and when it’s pebble ice, at least I’m not afraid my teeth are gonna look like wind chimes afterwards. I’m 9 months pregnant, and this might be an indication of an iron deficiency. Fun!

Last night at the ice cream shop, the man who rung me up said, “you go here a lot, you should really sign up for a rewards card.” And so from now on, I will be eating my ice cream at home, thank you, where it is more cost-effective and no one says shit like that to my fuckin face.

When you put stuff out on the stoop in New York, there’s a 100% chance people will take it. You get rid of stuff you don’t want and other people get stuff for free! For example, I recently found myself with 4 tarot decks… Yikes. Now those are divided up evenly among my neighbors… Healthy.

And now some from the readers…

Mariana: “I am passionate about turning random beautiful details in my camera roll into stickers to send to my friends at random. You get a spiky seed pod! You get a spiky seed pod! Actually you get my ice cold can of pacifico that was glistening in the sun on my roof or the pot of soup that was my favorite meal on my trip over thanksgiving last year.”

Patrick: “I’m passionate about reading old journals from years ago. When I journal I tend to keep it short and simple. They feel more like emotional receipts. Here’s one from November 10, 2015. “I don't rollerblade as much as I would like.” There’s no mystery there. I like to rollerblade. I never rollerblade. So I’m quietly always longing to rollerblade. You wouldn't know it by looking at me. But it's there, buried inside me. And you know what? I was *just* thinking the same thing a few days ago. Looks like I need to take my rollerblades out for a spin.”

If you have a passion, just reply to this email with 1-2 sentences about it.

Everyone take care best you can,

Jo