Category Archives: 1

times they are a-changing

I did it. I made the switch. So far, so good.

New blog location: http://tomorrowsdust.blogspot.com/

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and that’s just lovely

Monday. Everyday I get to my office, pour myself some coffee, and then just stare at the computer screen while I collect my thoughts for the day. On Monday, this process takes longer.

On another note, I love Carla Bruni. Ever since a friend gave me her CD in high school it has been love. She’s artsy class with that impeccable French style.

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just you

Over a year ago Jeff and I got in an argument.

At one point I didn’t know why we were fighting.

And so I simply asked him, “What do you want from me?”

He responded, “I just want you.”

And it was the sweetest thing.

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lost significance

What sort of diary should I like mine to be? Something loose-knit and yet not slovenly, so elastic that it will embrace anything, solemn, slight or beautiful, that comes into my mind. I should like it to resemble some deep old desk or capacious hold-all, in which one flings a mass of odds and ends without looking them through. I should like to come back, after a year or two, and find that the collection had sorted itself and refined itself and coalesced, as such deposits so mysteriously do, into a mould, transparent enough to reflect the light of our life, and yet steady, tranquil compounds with the aloofness of a work of art. The main requisite, I think, on reading my old volumes, is not to play the part of a censor, but to write as the mood comes or of anything whatever; since I was curious to find how I went for things put in haphazard, and found the significance to lie where I never saw it at the time.

V. Woolf

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to know

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lovely weather

This weather is worth writing home about. It makes everything more enjoyable, even driving, even in Dallas.

“It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold, when it is summer in the light and winter in the shade.”

-Charles Dickens

“Great Expectations”

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It’s all about character.

When I grow up…

(Courtesy of The Sartorialist)

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