The Bear of Friday

I just had to share the Friday Bear. Don't you want to cuddle it? I do. Seriously, that makes me a little weak to look at.

I finished two interesting books this week -- one is "Thunderstruck," by Erik Larson, the man who wrote "Devil in the White City." I love nonfiction that's written like fiction. It's about turn-of-the-last-century England, Guglielmo Marconi, who invented the wireless, and a murderer who might not have been apprehended if not for the wireless. Marconi was an interesting, though selfish and socially inept, man. The other is "Dry" by Augusten Borroughs. What an incredible memoir. He's a great writer, and "Dry" is the story of how he nearly drank himself to death, lost most everything that was important to him and finally got sober. It's sad and poignant, and ends on a hopeful, somewhat happier note.

I'm so excited because Jen got me a Netflix subscription for Christmas. I can finally get caught up on all the stuff I've missed in the past 20 months, including "Shoot 'em Up" and "Gone, Baby, Gone."

Betsey's coming over from Columbia on Christmas Eve, and requested that I cook corned beef, which I used to do sometimes for her when we lived in Chicago. Certainly not a traditional Christmas dinner, but hey, it's company's choice. Though I'm thinking I'd better have a backup plan in case there are no briskets in the stores.

Also, I have an appointment to go see three houses tomorrow out in Conway, which is about 10 miles inland, over the Intracoastal Waterway. Homeowners out there pay much less for insurance because they are less likely to have hurricane damage. Plus, they are less likely to find reeking, vomit-soaked college students passed out in their front yards during Spring Break.