(1) Slideshows. | (2) When they cut the grass. (“They” being not slideshows but men with unwieldy machines.) | (3) Serendipitous typos (i.e., “When they cut the crass,” “When they cut the gass”). | (4) “15. Blueberry Pop Tarts… 16. Pez candy… 17. Andrew Cuomo,” especially the part about Andrew Cuomo because it cracks me up and I don’t know why. (And I wrote it.) I also wrote a poem that has Andrew Cuomo in it. I think it (the Andrew Cuomo meme) has something to do with fathers and sons. Maybe? | (5) After the rain, which is, like, a song by the Nelson twins, I think, but that’s not what I love. I’m being literal. | (6) Trying to come up with 30 Things very fast. | (7) Allowing “very fast” to be a relative term. | (8) This thing: | . | (9) Crazy junkets. | (10) This conversation with my sister, in which she said: “It’s crazy. It’s physics. And I can’t even open an Entenmann’s box, so…” | (11) Rhythm and Repose. (Yes, also literally, but in this case the new Glen Hansard album, in which he sings (yet again) about star-crossed love. Or no love at all.) | (12) That oregano stuff Michel gave me. | (13) Making soup. On the hottest day of the year. | (14) Jhumpa Lahiri, specifically her sentences. | (15) Readability in other people’s writing, which — tellingly — is not something I always aim for in my own writing. Hmm. | (16) [Forgetting #16.]| (17) Oh: forgot: fathers and sons. | (18) Subway trains. | (19) My thrift store crate with the eagle on it. | (20) Instant coffee. | (21) The pet-sitter lady. | (22) Reading. Really late at night. | (23) Epsom salt. | (24) Symbols. Of all kinds, really. | (25) Practice. | (26) Epic walks. Necessitating an epsom-salt soak, they’re so epic. And I’m so not. | (27) Friends who forgive. | (28) A sister who understands and says, hell, yes: GO. Even though she probably wouldn’t do it herself. | (29) Walking into town for dinner on a Friday night. | (30) Dishwasherlessness.