This very interaction actually happens quite often during the summers. Some of my best friends happen to be pasty white people who burn easily. I fear for their lives.

How many celebrity crushes are allowed for one person? I mean, if I’m only allowed one, I’d have to go with Hope. And yes, my middle name is actually Han, and no, I’m not kidding about that name change.

My friend’s response to this comic from last week. My comic should be renamed, Adulthood: Fake It ‘Til You Make It.

Conversation I overheard between while on the Brown University campus yesterday during commencement. Awesome dad with his daughter. I love commencements, especially when the weather is nice and the atmosphere is full of hope and happiness.

Congratulations to all the grads this year from everywhere!

Skottie Young at Boston Comic Con some weeks ago. This kid took about 2 minutes to stammer this question out, and it was adorable. And also a little weird and scary.

Also: I got a tablet, and now I’m playing with it. Bear with me while I figure this out… By the way, it’s amazing.

Thumbnails. 90% of the work. (Taken with instagram)

My mother’s mom at the columbarium. She passed when my mom was about 10. On behalf of my wonderful mommy, Happy Mother’s Day to her too. (Taken with instagram)

My brother and I spent part of Mother’s Day with my dad’s mom. Watching Wrestlemania VI, Hulk Hogan v. The Ultimate Warrior. (Taken with instagram)

One of the many amazing things about Maurice Sendak was that every generation born after 1960 could have been familiar with his work. And those familiar with his work inevitably have some strong emotional attachment to it.

I spent the last two afternoons listening to Terry Gross’s interviews with Sendak on Fresh Air (Seriously, check it out. It’s amazing.) and was struck by what a smart, emotional, dark, honest, and unique storyteller he was. Seeing as I have yet to “grow up,” books I loved as a child still influence me strongly as an artist today. Where the Wild Things Are and In the Night Kitchen left an indelible mark on me not only because of the wonderful illustrations, but because of the emotional honesty it shared with me as a sad/angry/scared child. 

If you haven’t had the pleasure of enjoying Sendak’s work, take his death as an opportunity to familiarize yourself with them. They’re still in libraries and classrooms everywhere.

Rest in peace, Maurice Sendak, and thank you so so much.

“But the wild things cried, ‘Oh please don’t go — we’ll eat you up — we love you so.’”