In my attempt at being honest with myself and the resounding echo of cyberspace, I have concluded that my recent posts have been thorougly depressing. Sorry. I guess I'd just rather not be fake these days.
It's like massage city around here, and I'm the mayor. But I never seem to have enough done. Kind of like earning money- all you do is work, but there's never enough of that, either. I found myself listening closely this morning in the kitchen as our dish told me how to select the perfect cave. It all started to make sense! No six month leases, no 400,000 dollars a month. All you have to do is make sure it faces east so the sun can warm it up in the morning, and that no water can get in even if it rains for days and days and days. And if you can't find a cave like this, find a mountain and some dynamite and make one.
I think I'm going to write some stuff soon, maybe about the potato lady from Adams, who simultaneously eats potatoes and looks like one. Maybe it will be about how I'm starting to think New Zealand would be a great place to emigrate to, because it is ruled by women and is gorgeous. Just like me.
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