Wee people.

Everyone I know is getting pregnant, except me (purposely). I feel a little guilty about the fact that I would rather drink bourbon and eat runny eggs and cheese than make with the babies, but to be honest, that's how it is. I'm hoping for nieces and nephews since I'd like the kind of kids I can spoil and send home to their parents, but I don't think I'm getting any too soon, and I'm not too sad about that either.



I just remembered, and it made me smile that until it is painted over, my name and the mister's are part of the graffiti covering the walls of a hotel elevator in Copenhagen.


In complete darkness, I lose balance.

Sometimes Brooklyn is so full of shadows in the evening that I look up and think I can see a star in the dark night sky, but then I realize... it's a plane.