I know I'm behind, and I've owed you, my dear loyal readers, so many updates for so long that I think at this point the only word that applies is "pathetic." Currently, not only do I have Copenhagen to write about, I have a trip to Burgundy and an amazing weekend with a visiting American friend to add to that list. And yet, today? Still not the day you've been waiting for.
Frankly, I've been lost in thought lately - and not just the thinking in the shower (Item #6 on my list of Things I Miss About The US: big water heaters and the accompanying long, pressurized showers) that typically constitutes a big chunk of my lost-in-thought time. This morning, I woke up before 5 am and found myself contemplating and analyzing and connecting and, well, figuring the world out. I swear, if I hadn't gotten a headache from lying awake in the same position for four hours, I could have come up with a unified field theory (and then become the new
A New Dawn, which reminds me: Katie, when we were still in the old house, why did Jack Weyland come stay with us? Do you remember?)
This is all to say, when I find myself thinking less about, I dunno,
what it all means, or the limpid yet turgid pools of limitless depth that have me so preoccupied, THEN the belated stories of my hijinks-less life will come. And since my planned pictures of me dropping my absentee ballot into a La Poste box were thwarted by the tags o' French profanity on my local La Poste box, I have for you instead a store window I passed today that is still, even now, making me twitch.
Twitch.
