Huyen’s family was in town last week… it was a busy one, seeing Patton Oswalt at the State Theatre (funny as hell, especially since I’m not super-familiar with his material) one Friday and the next going to a reading by Paul Feig of his new book, Superstud (which I read in its entirety this weekend), introduced by none other than King Alex of Beguin. In between, we did lots of cooking and baking and game playing. We spent yesterday relaxing a bit and doing a little work around the house.

Yesterday we woke up at 5:30am to our smoke alarm beeping a few times and then stopping. The battery’s not dead, as I just replaced it a couple months ago and there was no smoke or fire anywhere. So that was weird.

On Saturday when I was walking Amina, I heard a kid yelling across the street to us, “Give me your dog, you bastard! You, in the green shirt and blue jean shorts! With the glasses! Ya bastard! Give me your dog, you bastard!”

The kid couldn’t have been more than six years old.

Yesterday, I was asked to write a foreword for a cookbook. At first I was like, “Holy crap!” And then I was like, “Thank you!” And then I was like, “Hell yeah, I’ll do it!” I wonder if the cover will say, “Foreword by Ryan MacMichael,” like I’d be an actual selling point or something. Huyen asked me last night, “Aren’t forewords usually written by famous people?” I said, “Yeah, and…?”