twisting my hair, complaining about architecture, ferrets, baking pies, striped socks, the pythagorean theorem, farmer's markets, picking leaves off of trees, sunday family dinner night, puzzles
indie music so hip that it's humiliating
deconstructing harry
any reality show that makes me feel better than other people
i used to like fiction. then i read infinite jest. now i'm burned, used up, busted, cheated, bitter, distrustful. so for now i read nonfiction, until i forgive david foster wallace.