i love the idea of the essence of a thing distilled. like seeing a movie in the blue light on the walls of an apartment, or the fumes out of the vents of a restaurant—those from Lyon have always smelled very true. imagine if a restaurant critic had to, you know, go to the bathroom, before they could finish their review.

was watching basketball, spurs vs oklahoma city thunder, game one of the western conference finals, and i'm amazed by how exciting that stuff is. i forgot about basketball. 

i had a fun time in portland. now i'm back and i just gotta make lots of money and not get lazy when i have free time so i can work on this thing about the self storage industry and indict excessive stuff-having.

i'm all sweaty and it's wonderful. i'm incandescent! i think to touch somebody, to have sex or something wonderful like that, you can only do it when you're overflowing with heat. skin is so flush and plump—touching is just the saddest thing when one's cold. 

earlier today i was picking up robert under the arms and flinging him up into the air. then i'd take a break and eat some lunch. then he'd come running, smiling with the stupidest, purest joy, and i'd do it to him again. except each time i set him down to take a break he'd return sooner and sooner to demand i resume until pretty much as soon as i put him down he was nearly ready to throw a tantrum. when he has a tantrum he jumps up and down. it's really funny in retrospect.

tomorrow i will go to arta and laura's barbeque!