Cupcakes in the Rye

Thursday morning, a package was delivered to me in my office. I immediately began to wonder what could be inside:


What could it be? Some books? A cake? The office supplies I ordered? I had no idea. Oh how I love a good mystery...

Upon closer inspection and various detailed investigations, I was able to determine that the box contained flowers. Huzzah! Roses and Lilies from L!

Aww...


And wonder-secretary Pam baked me vanilla-frosted cupcakes with sprinkles:


Later L and I went to Aprés Diem for dinner where, over my first-ever martini (two, actually, and dirty) and throughout the entirety of a conversation about various infamous Smarts (Elizabeth, Pamela), I endured to the extent I am able the tedious manifestations of extroverts...

Extroverts of a certain ilk are like Pigpen, the Peanuts character: forever wallowing in the cloud of their own unprocessed psychology. Despite appearances, they aren't interacting with the outside world, they're unconsciously acting out their unfinished business as if on stage in front of the outside world. There's a difference.

After dinner we went for a walk in Piedmont Park...


where, like Paul, Mother Nature's son, we could be found in a field of grass...


and we talked about Holden Caulfield, Roman Polanski, and the Beatles.


The park offers a nice view of Bedlam's skyline.


Some menacing clouds rolled in...


and then my camera went suddenly on strike. It gave me error message E18 which, seriously? is not helpful unless you're the sort of person who carries the user manual around with you.

Back to the Nunnery for an evening of Heineken & Joni before sleep. Heineken is a different (and lesser) experience here than it is in the Netherlands.

Everything you need to know about Joni Mitchell you can find in Blue.