satisfied yet longing

I bought this big red because my honey's been on a wine kick, and I thought he'd like it. Too bad he won't be able to try it. He's gone of to London for work, and I'm alone doing what I do when I'm alone - eating pizza and drinkng wine. I'm not in with my other boyfriend, the Red Baron, tonight though. I'm doing a whole wheat, white bean, and kale pizza by candlelight with Beach House as background. A special treat for one but ultimately true to what I do when I'm with or missin my boo. Here's to the spaces where how we romance ourselves and romance others kiss.

the last days of detox

left me with lots of questions. What is the making of a woman? Is she what she has done? What she does? Who she thinks she is? All of this is to say that I missed drinking booze. Desperately sometimes. During the detox. Drinking is a part of so many of my social activities. As this blog implies, it's what I do when I celebrate. What I do when I lament. What I do in groups to party. What I do alone along with introspection. And while clove and sage tea and spicy beet juice are delicious, amazing even,

they are but an amusing sidebar of the narrative I care to create.

Learning new things

One of my favorite bars in Chicago sells soda water and a lime wedge for $ 1.

Awesome or rip-off?

'tis the gift to be simple

I'm going from this

to this

for the next three weeks.

Vegan, caffeine-free, booze-free, gluten-free, soy-free, sugar-free. I'm charged with slowing down, spending time mindfully paying attention to my breath, and getting a full 8 hours of sleep each night. Less time multi-tasking, more time detached from all my technologies, and moving my body without much attention to time at all. It's a kind of freedom. Pause.

Airport logic

I just thought very seriously about getting a shamrock shake.

bourbon and bitters

A Saturday night at home rewarded. I am the medium as two artists communicate 'cross the fuzzy post humous divide. The doc above reminds me of Gravity and Grace below.

"Literature and morality. Imaginary evil is romantic and varied; real evil is gloomy, monotonous, barren, boring. Imaginary good is boring; real good is always new, marvellous, intoxicating. Therefore, 'imaginative literature' is either boring or immoral (or a mixture of both). It only escapes from this alternative if in some way it passes over to the side of reality through the power of art - and only genius can do that."

Hank, Simone, and I will sit on the beach where reality and imaginary lap against each other. In the wet, on the sand, let's raise our naked Manhattans 'til the tides turn around.

much ado

about something.