Stewing

So I realized that this blog has been in existence for about a year now, and there are a total of sixty posts. (sixty-one, after I publish this). I'm not sure exactly where to go with this. One year, sixty posts-- it is either a huge accomplishment or the biggest embarrassment since the realization no one actually reads it.

Sixty posts, twelve months...it averages out to five posts a month. Which averages out to about a post a week. Which is okay, right?

If I actually did a post a week. The initial days of thrice-a-week posting admittedly do bring up the numbers quite deceivingly. Maybe if I promise to do better? Although I've tried that. Ah, well. Lo que sera, sera.

At any rate, it seemed unfair to let the date pass without some sort of commemoration, so--

Happy Birthday, Lovely.

Lovely goes to San Francisco

the lovely whackjob

A certain sense of entitlement
whose source or validity I've never questioned
Perhaps it's a uniquely American feeling
the idea that we deserve for things to all work out
life, liberty, and a guaranteed happy ending
that I deserve to be always happy
that something must be wrong when I'm not
Or perhaps its developed from presidence
Spring will come because it always has before
and indeed--
here it is again