Beautifully Sunny, Perfect Morning

Dogs walking humans crossing street, Girls in shortest pants flashing skin, after endless spring drizzles and downpours, nothing defines "perfect" better than a crispy sunny day.

The coffee shop is only slightly crowded, T.M. in a perfect weather is simply a languid lay-back township in slow-mo action - if there is any action at all.

Jack johnson is singing "I am just a waste of her energy, she is just a waste of my time, so why don't we waste it all , Tonight,"

Wanna get wasted. In Sunshine-Tequila. Big time.

I wonder if there is a stage in everybody's life, when you feel you've had enough, enough working, enough striving, enough aspiring, enough living with a purpose and climbing the social ladder, and you just want to lie down, staring at the sky, listening to everything and nothing, leaving everybody alone and being left alone, and time is just of no value and meaning like it's meant to be wasted...

Cause I think I am in that stage now.

to wed is to dine

Weddings are mini-dramas packed into a hectic 3-hour meal. We envy, we show off. We yawn, we blah-blah-blah. We laugh, scoff, bluff, puff, and play deaf. The exchange of gestures and emotions are just too much to be stomached for one night.

So when the show ended, we usually come home totally exhausted and mildly disgusted, going to bed early, hoping all the mixed feelings, bad tastes in the mouth, will all go away in the morning.