Still recovering from a fourteen-hour lunch date. Or a 'lunch hangout,' I'm still not sure which. Either way, it was a lovely mix of tangerine sorbet, strawberry cream tea, soul-baring, pad thai, and Amoeba Records. I should listen to more Bollywood soundtracks, I think.
I just finished my party-favor-on-loan, Craig Thompson's Carnet de Voyage, and I can't escape the feeling that I've just awoken from a nap in rainy Barcelona. Of course, the fact that I'm in blistering Lost Angeles is failing to register right now, which is a testimony to Thompson's storytelling power. Half an hour on the treadmill and listening to Mitch Hedberg haven't snapped me back into wack-o-rama reality as well as I'd hoped. O, listlessness....
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