Remember when I found a secret room in the house and threatened to build a hideout for myself and ignore the fact that I even exist? Pepperidge Farm remembers.
Scene: an upstairs bedroom, early morning light filtering in through a single window and falling on a figure in the bed; a small chair beneath the window serves as a bedside table. A phone is the only item on the chair. [The phone’s alarm goes off. It’s 5:30 am and the room is filled with…
I think if I had to describe things as a game show, my little world right now would be something between The Price is Right and Whose Line is it Anyway? Actually, there’s probably more than a little from all the game shows I looked forward to watching on those rare snow days that cancelled…