I don't have a smart phone. Expression of regret. This significantly limits my social media time to about five minutes a day, but even with only that, I now prefer to spend them on Twitter. Here's why.

First let me say that as a small town girl, I'm still constantly in awe about how nice it is to live in a city. Not that Cleveland is the most desirable or glamorous city in which a person could live, but five years in, I'm incredibly content.

I'm long since past the days of reading textbooks, so I confess that the thought of reading for anything other than pleasure causes panic and painful flashbacks. I kid, I kid.

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.