A Fine Vintage.

My grandfather.

Thirty.

Tattuesday.

TwentyFive

Montreal Part 1

Beers. Pools. Patios.

Magic Tape Twelve by TheMagician

Sixteen.

Montreal tomorrow. Squeeeeeal!

Fourteen.

A serious case of the Sundays has stolen my fervor for this day.

A far too jovial Saturday night has not helped the situation in the slightest; yes I could have stopped myself, but I didn't want to.

Self inflicted sickness is very often the worst kind.

Eleven.

There is so much emotion inside of me; this very moment; but I’m having the hardest time conveying it.

It could be the grapes; it could be the late hour- I really don’t know.

What I do know is that I am going to bed tonight, tired and a little bit tipsy, content; because I have just had the most amazing evening with my friends. We toasted the evening with, not one, but two $80 dollar bottles of wine, provided by a lovely, generous and witty elder friend of ours, PJ. He had us in stitches!

Sometimes when I think of the times we are having, I get emotional- it’s an intense happiness; and I haven’t found the words to describe this feeling yet. But I will.

Just not tonight.

Nine.

"If you're walking down the right path and you're willing to keep walking, eventually you'll make progress."

~Barack Obama

One foot in front of the other...