I crawled out of bed early this morning, made a cup of tea, and settled down to finish Molly Wizenberg's latest, called Delancey. I loved this book and didn't want it to end. She looks at the world with a writer's eye, and tells her life in a story most fiction writers would envy.
We met friends for dinner at the Issaquah Brewhouse, narrowly missed being conscripted as unwilling baby sitters for a big group who didn't want to keep an eye on their own kids. The staff nipped that in the bud by pulling a divider across, and sending the kids back to their parents' space. We had a good laugh over it, and settled down to enjoy ourselves.