sometimes it's hard to know if i don't feel like writing, or if i don't know what i want to say. i have thoughts of St Pete (one year ago), New England (in three weeks), and David Lynch (momentarily). it seems something wants to be said, and yet i find myself empty-mouthed and limp-fingered. the smell of quiche is in the air, and although i'm certain it will be delicious, the idea of egg pie still repulses me. but this is beside the point.
the point is that we have brunch guests arriving in thirteen minutes, and there is a table that needs setting...
Sunday, June 7, 2009
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