Right now I am writing this post while eating my spaghetti a)Because I felt like I haven't posted in a while and b)Because I am so busy at the moment the only time for recreational writing is while eating dinner. [Pauses, spoons spaghetti into mouth]. My piano exam is tomorrow morning (eep!) and though I shouldn't have anything to worry about it is still a bit nerve racking. [Chew, swallow, scoop].Cake I made last weekend.
In Literature we read this short story titled "Postcards From Surfers", I don't remember the author but it was this seemingly mundane little story where she detailed one specific day when she went to visit her parents. Nothing particuarly interesting happened in the story but nevertheless it was quite captivating. Towards the end of the story she wrote these depressing postcards which she was going to send to her ex-boyfriend. It made me wonder about postcards and what exactly people write on them. They'll say Greetings From (insert chosen tourist destination here) or Wish You Were Here when really it is more likely that the people receiving the postcards are the reason the author went away in the first place. [Drops pasta shell onto desk, looks around]. Postcards would be a whole lot more interesting if they were written like they were in "Postcards From Surfers" as a more of a short story in themselves than as anything else. Crochet rug which I have recently started to continue on with.
The photos are just some random ones taken over the past week or so. The apple one I particulary like for reasons unknown exactly. It is just a poor apple who unfortunatly tasted terrible so was turned into a face. He has no name except crabby apple when really he looks more sorry to be tasteless than crabby I think. [Puts fork down and stares at half-empty plate]. Crabby Apple.Moshe