It's Tuesday.

My all-time favorite song to listen to while bike-riding is none other than Purple Bottle by Animal Collective.
It's sort of lengthy, which means you have just enough time to daydream, and it's upbeat enough that you don't want to stop pedaling.
Really, I just think Feels is a great album overall to listen to while outdoors, or at least riding in a car with the windows down. (So is Strawberry Jam, but unfortunately, I have some slightly negative connotations with that album now, so I'll have to wait a bit before I can really enjoy it out in the sunshine).

I don't know if I want to be buried when I die.
I don't really want to lie and rot, but at the same time, the whole coffin-and-flowers-and-tombstone bit does have slightly romantic overtones. Someone weeping on a patch of soil and hugging a slab of cold granite in memory of me isn't totally unappealing.
Then again, being cremated might not be too bad. I mean, I could sit on a mantle somewhere and be part of everyday life in that house, and absorb the odors from Thursday nights' lasagna dinners.
I don't want to assume that I have a lot of time to consider & think about these things. Maybe I'll just stick with mummification.

Few things are better than reaching into a box of cereal that has marshmallows (like Lucky Charms) and pulling out a big clump of just the little marshmallow things. Pure, sugary heaven.