Greetings, Rock and Roll Grammarian reader(s).
I write to you from my sunny, second-floor apartment in Brooklyn. Working from home rules for the following reasons:
1) Simon is here.
2) Fewer visual and auditory distractions make for a much more productive Samantha.
3) I can do little chores here and there, thus having more after-work time for relaxing and watching my stories.
4) I don’t have to wear pants.
Today I learned a valuable but painful lesson in humility after Googling my name for the hell of it. Readers, never, ever try to write about things you don’t really understand, even if your job seems to depend on it. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say I’m still wincing. From now on I’m focusing on stuff like cats and dogs and boxed wine — from THESE I know.
Simon’s Auntie R. sent me this today, and I must tell you, it made my day. For a brief moment I forgot how little I like children and thought to myself, “Self, you could teach music. To children. Really.”
And then, nothing.
But, it is a sweet story, and they’re pretty good little singers, too.
This weekend, Texas happens. I wish I could spend time with every single person I adore in Dallas — and there are many — but this time around it’s going to be just family. I can already taste the Tex-Mex and chlorinated water.