Dear Dewey The Small-Town Library Cat Who Touched the World,

As the Booklist (starred review) said, you are a "beguiling, poignant and tender tale." I'm so glad that you were left behind in a heap of what could have been cheesy or unreadable books in the closet at the apartment in the Jayakarta Resort in Bali. I mean, I could have chosen any of the books from that deep, dark closet shelf. But I chose you, Dewey. I chose you because the photo of you on the cover called to me. It said, read me and find out more about Dewey Readmore Books, the small-town library cat who touched the world.

Oh Dewey the small-town library cat who touched the world, you taught me not only about the peculiarities about a handsome, humble (for a cat) cat, but you also taught me about the resilience of a small town in northwestern Iowa.

Just like the book in the closet, you were left behind in a drop-box on that frigid January morning, and as you snuggled into Vicki Myron's chest, you made that rough and tumble farm girls heart melt. When Doris would give you catnip and you'd do figure eights, zigzags and pretzels you'd make everyone laugh. As you jumped into the laps of the genealogy club members at their weekly meetings, you made people feel special. But when you started getting into the local press, Cat Fancy, the documentary Puss in Books and even the Japanese documentary, you touched the world.

That's right Dewey, the small-town library cat who touched the world, you touched the entire world. But you also touched me. I feel recharged and revitalized after reading your tale. You reminded me to value the small things, to value quality over quantity, to find my place, to be happy with what I have and to love life. You were a special cat.

To close my letter to you, Dewey the small-town library cat who touched the world, I will leave with Vicki Myron's description of you in your official photograph, the one that won the contest at Shopko, accompanied countless articles in international press and the one that caught my eye. "He looks like he's trying to be strong and handsome but can't quite pull it off because he's so darn cute."

Thanks Dewey the small-town library cat who touched the world, thanks for being so darn cute.

Cat Fancied,
jason

Dear Beach Braids,

It's never okay.

Free advice,
jason

Dear Monday,

See you again in four weeks. Sucker.

Bali-bound,
jason

Dear Corner Store in D Block,

You represent so much of what I love about India. I love that you've always got me asking questions, wondering and taking a look at you when I drive by, regardless of how many times I've done it.

It all started when we first moved in to this neighborhood and we went to explore the little market around the corner from the house. Three restaurants, a gym, two banks, two bakeries, a little general store and you. That day, I didn't know what to make of you. The sign outside said you were a real estate shop, but a close inspection revealed just a desk and a phone. I have to confess Corner Store, you seemed a little suspicious to me even then.

Flash forward to a month or so into school and my neighbors and I were talking about you (I suspect that doesn't surprise you). They revealed your secret Corner Store. They told me that you not only served as a "Real Estate Office," but you also rented (!)(?) DVDs. Now, I can understand the sale of bootleg DVDs, but rentals? Only in D Block Market, India.

Well, that might seem like grounds enough for a sideways glance when I pass you (Who's in there? Are they buying a house or renting Pineapple Express? Why would anyone rent a DVD? Why would anyone rent a DVD from a Real Estate Office? How would they even know how to do it?).

But...you had to take it that extra step. I though you had legitimized yourself when one day the Real Estate sign had been replaced with the "Laser Video Centre" sign. I thought you had made the big switch. But a closer inspection revealed the same desk with the same phone. Oh the appeal of the empty office!

And then...two days later, Real Estate. And then...Video Store...

And now...I have to look every time I drive by. What will you be today Corner Store? Tomorrow?

Your mystery is enough for me. I don't want to cross that threshold and have my imagination spoiled.

Always wondering,
jason

Dear McLeod Ganj,

Hey, buck up little man. There's no reason whatsoever for you to feel so glum. Your air is so clean and crisp. You have a lot to offer all of the tourists that come. I really enjoyed the momo cooking class. I'm excited to make some more in the future (or at least have Yangzom use the recipe I learned). I also enjoyed visiting the Dalai Lama's temple and the Norbulingka handicraft center. Walking around and shopping was a lot of fun too.

I know that everyone says they're going to Dharamshala when really they're coming to see you, McLeod Ganj. You deserve the credit. After all, it's your pine-covered mountainside that people are hiking through. It's the momos in your restaurants and enlightenment at your temples that everyone is coming for.

Just for you, McLeod Ganj, I'm not going to refer to you as Dharamshala any more. After all, there's no way someone like the Snow Tiger could do his Tibetan cultural dancing anywhere except McLeod Ganj.

Refreshed because of you,
jason

Dear Restaurant Franchin,

When I came to you without a reservation on Thursday night and you sent me away despite the fact that you were empty, I was hurt Restaurant Franchin. I'm not going to lie. Maybe you were expecting quite a few people, but it seemed like a dis. I don't want to perpetrate any stereotypes of snobby french restauranteurs, but I'm going to. Okay, I'm sorry, that's my ego talking. I'm fragile, Restaurant Franchin.

Last night, when I came again without a reservation and I mustered all of the French I could and asked (I think?) for a table for one and you gave it to me, I was confused. Maybe it's the old Ike and Tina routine, but you got me. Instead of a fur coat, my reward for crawling back to you was a delicious foie gras with paired sweet white wine, caramelized onions and sea salt. That would have been good enough, after all I'm fairly easy to please. But when you got down on your hands and knees and begged for my forgiveness with a perfectly rose filet mignon in pepper sauce with patate au gratin and snap peas, I realized once again that you're the boss. No, Restaurant Franchin, it's me who's sorry.

A fool in love,
jason

Dear Bumblebee That Landed on my Shirt This Morning,

Remember this morning, when I was walking to the conference center and I saw you on my sweater and I said, "Hello Bumblefriend!" and then I gently brushed you off of my shirt? You really brightened my rainy morning!

Oh, and I also want to thank you for stinging my in the lip, or getting your venom on my finger or whatever it was that you did that enabled my upper lip to be as luscious and lovely as Angelina Jolie's. Alright, bumblebee, that is an exaggeration, but it sure is great to be reminded to be humble when I meet new people with this crazy swollen lip. It's also great to think of you every time I carelessly brush my mouth with my finger!

Sultry-ly,
jason

Dear Tonight's Restaurant,

Excusez-moi tonight's restaurant, but I have a few things to say. First of all, I know that I'm a tourist. I'm embarrassed that I don't speak French even though I'm in town for a language conference. I'm also sorry that I'm not one of your regulars because I'm not from Nice, which might make you spend less time with them and I can only guess how that might make you feel. But do you know what tonight's restaurant? You are exactly the reason I'm here. I can't keep away from you.

Maybe it's my fault because I looked up "restaurants in Nice" on TripAdvisor. Or maybe it's your fault for having a table for one smushed between two tables for two along the bar. I mean, who reserves a table for one? It seemed pretty clear to me that you were keeping that table open for me.

But let's cut to the chase tonight's restaurant. When you served me that Caesar Salad with super crispy bacon that perfectly matched the white wine you suggested, you had me at "bonsoir." And when your entree appeared, I was yours forever. Like I said before, it's hard to be a tourist in what seems like a locals only joint and I know that your old friends probably feel like you're changing, but what they need to understand is that we love the same things about you!

I mean, if we all just sat down together and had a filet mignon of pork served with scallops on a bed of mashed sweet potatoes and covered with a mix of "just right" snap peas, corn, shallots and pomegranate seeds, I think we could work out an agreement. Oh and with that wine! And the bread that I don't feel guilty about using to soak up the straight-up fat left over from perfectly cooking a piece of medium-rare pork...that would help too.

So, tonight's restaurant, thanks for understanding that non-French speaking, non-local living people like me still deserve a shot at the Filet. We appreciate every bite of it.

See you again,
jason

Dear Monaco,

Hey Monaco, you are seriously really small. But that doesn't stop you from charming your way right into my heart, does it? First of all you're a principality. I don't even really know what that means. I brought my passport with me on the bus from Nice, France, but I didn't need it in the end.

At first, I was really bummed that there was a demonstration parade that stopped the traffic into you the moment I arrived, but when I found out it was because you were hosting a carnival in the shadows of the yachts moored in your harbor, I instantly forgave you. It was really fun walking around and watching everyone have such a good time-you weren't as haughty as I thought you were going to be at all.

Also, thanks for having a really great Oceanographic Museum. I mean, I know it was run by the man Cousteau himself, and he kind of wrote the book on that stuff, but still...really great museum. The aquarium was cool, but I really loved the first floor exhibit rooms. I loved the way you kept it old school with rich wood and iron everywhere. The skeletons of the whales were killer and old diving suits-out of this world! It was "A Night at the Museum." Thanks also for making sure those 2 little sisters were in there at the same time as me. I felt just like they did, like I was seven again.

I feel like I'm gushing, but Monaco, I also wanted to thank you for keeping it classy with the Monte Carlo Casino. I'm sorry that I only got to see the outside, because you open at seven, but you are Monaco after all. 24/7 doesn't mean anything to you and I didn't want to wait an hour and a half.

Finally, I want to thank you for the perfectly placed statues of Grand Prix drivers. It's reassuring to know that you are in fact in Monaco when you turn a hairpin curve in a bus and see a copper champion in the median.

Yours always,
jason