Good evening, friends and neighbors.
I was not always me. This is how I decided I didn’t have time to not be me anymore.
Boston, 2009
You Always Have Time
inspiration
Rime of the Ancient Hippie: When Regret Leads to Renewal
Good evening, friends and neighbors.
I’m camped out in Beermongers on SE Division, nursing a Sour Cherry Torment (dark, heavy, malty, and riddled with sour cherry) and waiting out the typically schizophrenic weather of springtime Portland.
I’m camped out in Beermongers on SE Division, nursing a Sour Cherry Torment (dark, heavy, malty, and riddled with sour cherry) and waiting out the typically schizophrenic weather of springtime Portland.
The last time I was here was a little strange…
Serenity- Close to Home?
Good evening, friends and neighbors.
It had been a rough week. Between a long work week, tax season, car problems and more, Emily and I have been failing miserably at our resolution to just have boring lives for a few months.
Last Sunday, Emily decided that we both needed a day to relax and just mosey around- me especially. After thinking about what kind of things would help me relax, we decided the first order of business was a hot bowl of ramen for lunch, and then maybe an afternoon at Lan Su Garden.
There and Back Again
Good evening, friends and neighbors.
Emily and I stood in front of the sleek, modern apartment complex on St. James, our coats bundled up tight against the wind. It was carrying something beside freezing cold, though, and we wanted ALL of that. Greasy food, car exhaust, wet leaves, motion and attitude and frustration. The smells of home.
We were back in Philadelphia.
Photo from Wikipedia
Why Do I Do This To Myself?
Good evening, friends and neighbors. It’s been a while.
5:15 AM
My alarm goes off by my side of the bed. It’s still dark in the room.- not even a hint of the dawn coming in about 2 hours. I know Emily has probably only been in bed a few hours (night owl that she is,) so I jerk myself conscious enough to silence the alarm quickly before it can bother her.
My phone alarm acts as a dim nightlight, so I can just barely make her out next to me. Streetlights and headlights glow indirectly through the tiny ceiling window- enough for me to grab my phone, check the weather forecast for the morning, buzz through Facebook, curse myself for doing so, and get up.
I don’t have to be into work till 9, but I insist on arriving no later than 8:45. I want time to make breakfast and clean up-
after a workout of course.
This was not always me.
4 years ago, this was me.
The Black Hat Baker 