lorenzo the flying frenchman

omg. i wish i was going to grad school for this, or this was me or someone i was married to. except i'm pretty sure "lorenzo" is not a french name.

greens

that is the restaurant where we went to dinner tonight to belatedly celebrate my birthday. it was incredible, as usual, but i really wish i could stop going so that each meal there would be like a shining gem in my memory instead of one of dozens of dusty gems in a chest that's lying around. but how do you stop yourself from experiencing maybe the most delicious thing ever, especially when you've been eating snack food for what feels like years because even the microwave is disgusting? you don't. period.

on the ride home, i saw a guy carrying his groceries in his arms on the sidewalk. probably lives like a block from a grocery store. pretty normal. the thought that went through my head was, "how quaint." i think i believed that we had come so far since the days of carrying groceries that we had invented something so no one ever had to carry their groceries, especially if they lived a little bit of a walk from the grocery store. ostensibly, i could have been thinking "shopping cart" or "car," but i think my real thought was something more like "grocery transporter." i have no idea where this came from. maybe encouraging myself to think like a small child again is an experiment gone wrong; maybe delicious food is doing something to my brain.