They say you never really know a person until you've spied on them. And by "they," it's important to understand I mean my uncle Daniel, who was recently arrested on charges of trespassing while spying on neighbors. Uncle Dan might be a little funny in the head, but he has a point: we only reveal our true selves when we think we're completely alone.

In the interest of full disclosure, here are three things you could only know about me when there are no prying eyes.

1. I think reading should feel like I'm at the movies. Hot, buttery popcorn, an ice-cold soda, and gooey candy stuck to the roof of my mouth make for a richer reading experience. (But only when I'm alone; I hate those weird "What have I gotten myself into?" stares from other people.) Also, if I have to use the restroom, I mark my place, time myself, and only start rereading at the approximate location I would have reached if I hadn't left. Then I call up a friend who's read the book and ask them to tell me what I missed.

2. I don't blog naked, or anything weird and kinky like that. However, I do like to blog while wearing fuzzy bear-paw slippers. And I sing what I've written out loud, opera-style. It makes it so much more dramatic.

3. I may not blog naked, but I dance naked. Do yourself a favor: don't try to picture it. I also eat hot, buttery popcorn, drink ice-cold sodas, and suck on gooey candy when I'm reading... while naked. Did I mention that earlier?

Now it's your turn. Write to brockman@powells.com with something I could only know about you if I were a fly on your wall. I promise, it'll be our little secret.

"If Chester herds us," Fup asks, "does that make us a herd of cats?"

Chester keeps on circling at full speed. Wider he circles, then tighter, tearing up the lawn. The cats plot his orbit by the muddy loop he's wearing in the grass.

You'd think they would be more agitated. Except, Chester's giving them plenty of cushion. And, really, they have nowhere to go. 10:30 Sunday morning, Rose Festival weekend in the North Park Blocks.

From the Davis Street sidewalk, a sailor points. Tells his shipmate, "Wagons circled, sir."

"We should bring Chesty to outdoor concerts," Bear proposes. "He'd make us a private space of our own."

The cats snicker at "Chesty."

Oreo says, "Cheswick could be our force field."

"Electron to our nucleus," Fup interjects.

Around, around, around the new dog runs, now and then reversing direction. Does he never tire?

"Our herd should have a name," Bagheera suggests.

"Herd colors?"

"Our own herd holidays."