It's life. You don't figure it out. You just climb up on the beast and ride.

I swear I could write a book about all the things no one has ever thanked me for.

A scent that disturbs me and delights me. It smells like ripe pears, vetiver, a bit of violet and something else- something spicy almost biting and exotic.

What they don't know is that I went over the edge years ago, and lived to tell the tale.

Life is short but it is wide. This too shall pass.

You know how some people, when they're together, they somehow make you feel more hopeful? Make you feel like the world is not the insane place it really is?

Don't ever admit you know a thing about cooking or it'll be used against you.