Sapporo Delights

The Japanese continue to thrill me with their confections and libations and packaging genius. Tonight, I drank something called Gabunomi Fruits Milk whose label reads "Apple+Orange+Pineapple&Milk" with an accompanying visual equation. It's a cute image, although the pineapple shouldn't be the same size as the apple and the orange. That's what you get when you live in a country where fresh fruit costs so much that you can only see it in books and museums and educational filmstrips. Similarly, I have no idea how to draw diamonds, gold nuggets, or crude oil.

Such is the life I lead now. Thrilled by bizarre ingestibles. Laboring long into the night. Wondering what's on television at this hour. Noticing that it's getting colder by the day. Fearing my eventual descent into the abyss. Soon, I'll be a vampire for sure. A vampire who quenches her bloodlust with fruity milk drinks and has freckles on her nose, but a vampire nonetheless.

When I was driving back from Burbank, I realized I was not in a hurry. It was a nice feeling. No number of iterations of the green light on which I could never turn left could dissuade me from my complacency. Today, I was patience incarnate.