I'm a lover of jewelry (my readers will soon find out just how much), and the first time I went to DC, seeing the Hope Diamond was the highlight of my trip.

It's a funny thing, Twitter. I'm one of the worst users ever, as I don't have a smart phone, am hardly ever logged in, tweet rarely, and feel sort of silly in this "you have no followers" stage which I really see no end to.

I'm down to the last few thousand words for my next book, and that's an interesting place to be. Not that I'm going to stop writing once I hit a certain word count, but I do have a target I'd like to hit, or maybe it's more an estimation of where I think I'll be once I have this all written out.

Do people out there really have headshots? That's a silly question, I know they do. I see them on websites and blogs and twitter.

I've never been a very athletic person (my only attempt to be a member of an official team is chronicled in Schooled), but I'm a big proponent of exercise. On my own.

I was twenty the first time I pumped a tank of gas. This is not unusual for a kid who grew up in Oregon, because in that blessed state you don't pump your own gas.

Restaurant Week is a genius idea. For those who aren't familiar, it's a stretch of 10 days or so where most of the nice restaurants in downtown Cleveland offer special deals and menus.

I talk to my parents regularly, but rarely do I get a call and see that it's coming from my Dad's cell phone. There's usually a slight sense of panic, like something might be wrong, especially because he's not the most chatty guy.

I was thinking yesterday about a quote I heard years ago about how good writing should make you feel like your head has been cut off.

I'm happy for Anne, surprised about Jennifer (and that trip on the stairs!), thought Jessica Chastain looked stunning, laughed at Seth's jokes (although, annoyingly, he did too), and went to bed way too late.

I've been out of town for a week, and I really have nothing literary to say other than that I read a book on the plane.

Was so happy to read this today. Congrats to Kate! I know I previously mentioned her desire to take over The Learned Owl Book Shop, and am delighted for her and this wonderful dream fulfilled.

I was on the toilet, if you must know. It was the early nineties, I was probably ten or eleven years old, and the magazine keeping me company at that moment was a Redbook with Meg Ryan on the cover.

I exchange Christmas cards with my third grade teacher, and in this most recent card, Mrs. Pace mentioned how much she enjoyed reading 'Schooled.'

Well, it's over. Monopoly has officially booted the Iron game piece in favor of--inexplicably--a cat.

I still have a little ways to go, but I am almost giddy with excitement already over finishing my next book. Now that I know what to expect once the writing is over and won't be so clueless during the process, I'm very much looking forward to it.

One of my favorite things in Cleveland is the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It appeals to the writer in me, feeds my celebrity obsession, and reminds me of the music my dad listened to when I was growing up.

I read an article recently about how we tend to flip flop our meals when it comes to the digestive ideal. Most people grab a quick, scant breakfast (or skip it altogether) and end up overindulging come dinner time.