'Do you like Shakespeare?'
My student's face twists into a pained question mark: What does she want me to say? (I want him to say yes, of course, but I want him to mean it.)
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“Bring a urine sample,” Google advises, and Luke and I wonder how exactly one collects a urine sample from a dog. Nika, our Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy, isn’t inclined to pee on command and probably won’t tolerate being besieged by a soup ladle mid-stream. Nevertheless, we set out on a June morning, armed with said ladle and a bottle of Purell.
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Most recently, being engaged has led me into the strange new realm of weddings. To call its denizens 'obsessed' is to put it mildly. You cannot grasp the mania of the modern wedding until you have attempted to plan one yourself, until you've been baptized in the frothy blush-tones of Pinterest and emerged wondering if you really might care about quirky tablescapes. You feel a bit like Christ, stumbling around the desert, sunburnt and seeing visions. 'All this I will give you,' saith Style Me Pretty, 'if you will bow down and worship me.' It was in the midst of this mania that I discovered the cool, dark shade of Saipua, and the end of the world.
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