Friday, July 13, 2007

just wanna feel the sand beneath my toes

The air this morning smelled like the ocean {which is to say, the east}. Next week I'm driving down to a beach, though of course we won't be able to go swimming. Things we can do, though: see fish (I love fish), drink wine, get fruit, see the Santa Cruz Wednesday market where I have a coffee vendor friend, go camping, smoke birthday cigars (that wasn't my idea. my idea was pie.)

Last night I did something I shouldn't have done and now I'm tempted. SORELY. Last week someone tempted me too and then today, just now tempted again. Going to think about all this temptation while I'm trying to find the perfect Santa Cruz beach on Route 1, that one I dropped my keys in six years ago, the first time I came to California in my big black car.

Reminder: I came here for specific things.
Counterargument: Thinking on that.

I'm back in a kitchen and things are better. Discipline, order, sequence. Even though the fictional world is fragmented, petulant, needy.

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