the only bad thing about summer is that all of a sudden no one wants to have soup for dinner anymore. its suddenly all about salad.. but i suppose that can be nice in its own right
i hope everyone who's ever loved me still thinks of me. i hope they wonder what perfume i'm wearing, what books i'm reading, what pastries i'm baking, where i leave the spare key to my house, where the knife drawer is, when i'm going to let my guard down..