I have the kindest, nicest sons. I am so touched by them, and so proud of them.

RIP dead, fat bees.

I’m thrilled to say that I’ve just been approached by a fragrance company to create a companion scent to my memoir, Ravenous, which will be published in February 2011.

We had our first meeting and we’ve boiled down the scent to base notes of salami and camenbert, mid notes of black olives and cheetos, with a top note (light) of cheesecake (plain). The company believes, and I agree, that when readers of my memoir spritz themselves with Ravenous, the perfume, they will be transported into the world of bingeing and overeating like they never dreamed possible. We call this “augmented reality,” and it’s what every author should aspire to.

We’re hoping they can create an edible bottle in time for launch so that if the spritzer/reader has a deep urge to binge big, she can eat the bottle too.

Neither of us could come up with any response.

So I bought some. After rinsing them to get rid of the fishy smell, then frying them in a bit of olive oil, and topping with some homemade pesto, I can honestly say they’re merely edible. A vehicle for a sauce maybe, an interesting enough texture, but my taste buds would never confuse it with real pasta.

I’ll just stick to the real thing. I’d rather eat less, and enjoy more.

I went to a Boxer fundraiser because she’s in a tight race against Carly Fiorina (she of the famed “Demon Sheep Ad” against Tom Campbell), who I think is truly awful. I was impressed with Boxer, and she seemed to enjoy herself. Of course, this was in the Berkeley Hills and she was speaking to her peeps. And I loved that she had to dash because she was going to another fundraiser in Marin where Phil Lesh was performing.

That night, Scott and I went to see the New Pornographers at the Fox Theater in Oakland. They opened with “Sing Me Spanish Techo” and were completely tight and great from there. And, I got to see A.C. Newman and Neko Case in the flesh. I love this band, which is the only reason this middle-aged girl was still singing and swaying close to midnight.

Then, off to Florence with Scott, the boys, and his parents. I loved every moment. Scott was a remarkable guide through the Uffizi, making Renaissance art more understandable and alive. I was stunned by Boticelli’s Venus and her remarkable beauty.

We visited the Stibbert Museum, where we were all enthralled by the largest private collection of medieval armor. The boys knew all about halbards, chainmail and swords. Our guide, Paola, was enchanted by our knowledgeable American boys.

We went to the Academie, where I fell in love with Michelangelo’s David. You can’t believe he made this living, breathing statue out of marble. David, so intelligent, so beautiful, caught in the pause just before he makes his move to slay Goliath.

We ate incredible pasta, pizza, octopus and langoustine, and drank espresso at night. We walked hours every day, over the Arno, over the Ponte Vecchio, and through narrow streets. I loved the oldness of the city, its history, but not the taxi rides. Almost got clipped several times. It’s been 15 years since I’ve been to Europe and I will be back soon. Maybe when Ravenous comes out in Italian?

Speaking of Ravenous, I’m working on the subtitle. Right now, it’s “A Food Lover’s Search for Balance” — which my editor thinks is blah. So I’m brainstorming ideas, and struggling. A good subtitle is crucial — and it frames the “soundbite” for the book, which I still don’t have. Which is remarkable since in all my PR jobs, I’ve counseled authors to have that sound bite down cold, or else, how can you pitch your book in this sound bite culture of ours. I’ve written my book and still don’t have my elevator pitch. Trouble is, my book is complicated — spanning organics, sustainable agriculture, memoir, eating, overeating, yoga, losing weight – - so this is my July project, my subtitle, my soundbite, and also, beginning the redesign of my website.

But I am sad for Israeli music lovers. Both Costello and Frank Black are great musicians, and Costello’s “Alison” and Black’s “St. Francis Dam Disaster” are two of the most beautiful ballads ever written.

This epic series covers life’s epic themes — love, greed, envy, lust, and death. Alchemy, in this series, is based on the principle of equivalent exchange — that in order to gain anything, you also have to lose something. That nothing is for free.

Full Metal Alchemist is a glorious feat of animation.

There are many kinds of memoirists, and many kinds of memoirs. There’s the “It’s Payback Time” memoir; the “Rewriting History” memoir; the “Life is Just Beautiful” memoir; and the ubiquitous, “I’m a Hero” memoir. And then there are those that try to get at something more than just ones own experience in the world, making the book about some bigger truth. I’m trying, a little bit anyway, for the latter.

The dead can’t respond to the words you write and the living may hate you for them. I made the decision to give my mother my manuscript to read, so she had the opportunity to respond to anything I wrote about her and my family. I wrote gently about her, and not so gently about my long-dead father. Here’s why: though my mother was not always the mother I wanted, or needed, she did the best she could. My father did not.

She called me the other day. She wanted me to change some things I wrote about my father and brother, because it would embarrass her. The line between telling the truth and respecting others is a tough line to parse, one I need to walk with integrity, not only to others, but also to myself.