Cereal is my favorite thing to eat in the mornings when I'm writing. It’s fast, easy, delicious, and I really like the heat differential between a spoonful of O’s and a sip of Earl Grey.  My latest box was an old classic: Honey Nut Cheerios, but I’ve not be eating them as General Mills had probably ever envisioned, though I could say it’s as nature intended: Sprinkled with ants.

Lately it seems that this is the decade of movie remakes and reboots. It’s as if some uncreative person was like “hey, all the ideas have already been done.  That gives me an idea! Let’s remake old ideas that sold well.”

 S: "So how did you two meet?"

     They look at each other, telepathically telling the other to tell the story. He loses and says, "In an elevator."

     She huffs the smallest hint of annoyance mixed with adoration, "In a stuck elevator."

As I’m sitting here I should be thinking about what motifs to write about, but all I can think about is the new all women Ghostbusters ...right out of the gate my expectations are different. Instead of going to see how they’re going to rekindle the heart of my inner child, I’ll be going to see what interesting new direction they’ll take the franchise.

The tiny bubbles have just started to form on the edges of the pot when the front door opened wide enough, and long enough that I can feel the chill blow down the hall and join me in the living room.

“Mom! Hey mom! Can Sam stay for dinner?”