in my mp3 player... Sarah McLachlan "Ice Cream"   on the page... Ayn Rand The Fountainhead Debbie bought me a brand new copy after dog-earring the one I loaned her. I'm rereading the good bits until I find something else that strikes my fancy.   clad in... ivory   fueled by... Maine blueberries and Diet Coke   purchased... white l.l.bean canvas shoes "jenny the career girl" paper dolls for mom vidalia onion and roasted fig grilling sauce raspberry peach champagne jam oatmeal cinnamon soap a gull rock pottery vase a bottle of parallel 45 a single sheet of stationary and an envelope   wrong... I was wrong about the tranquil blue ocean. Instead it kicked and writhed and churned itself into foamy white bits. Erika and I sat on the rocks for two hours on Saturday morning simply staring. And thinking. And occasionally I would clap and squeal when the waves got dangerously close. At one point I stretched out on a rock and closed my eyes and tried to imagine the position of the white-capped rolling water from the sounds that filled my ears. And at another point I asked Erika if she thought that what we were doing-- sitting, staring, thinking-- would get old if we did it for more than, say, 75 days in a row. I still wonder.   my favorite part... Bev has one of those secret spiral staircases in the back of her house that connects the bathroom with the kitchen. I was very into using it at all times.