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marinate, cook til burnt
Aug. 13th, 2006 12:48 amRob took his tongs to the grill and remarked about as sentimentally as I'd ever expect, "I'm losing Oli, man. I'm so disappointed." Flip the ribs. It feels good to be missed.
Things take practice.
A big scab from a kitchen burn fell off my arm (okay, I helped it) and is sitting atop the book I'm reading. I'm so gross.
My spine likes cracking.
Summer is cresting. It only breaks for good once I'm back in school, and then once everything starts to smell like leaves it's fall.
Things take practice, like learning to breathe and release, breathe and take and let go. All the nodes and knots and clenching places, I need to learn to release.
The theme, evidently, is movement.
Things take practice.
A big scab from a kitchen burn fell off my arm (okay, I helped it) and is sitting atop the book I'm reading. I'm so gross.
My spine likes cracking.
Summer is cresting. It only breaks for good once I'm back in school, and then once everything starts to smell like leaves it's fall.
Things take practice, like learning to breathe and release, breathe and take and let go. All the nodes and knots and clenching places, I need to learn to release.
The theme, evidently, is movement.
