less ebb, more flow

I should probably not write at four in the morning after watching infomercial after infomercial. I should not write while I am wondering whether or not I can live without a steam cleaner, an airbrush cosmetics system or the magic bullet. or the kymaro body shaper. or the hawaii chair. in the deepest pockets of the night, these things look magnificent to me. the truth is that we've been on the road for awhile. I'm floating in that magic vacation bubble and I don't want to go home. but it's time to go home. my head is spinning with stories and ideas and there's a fat stack of polaroids begging to be scanned and so many undeveloped rolls of film. and my list project is all. off. schedule. this is usually the part where I say I don't know where to start.

so I'll skip that part and start with my new dansko sandals. because I love them more than all the infomercial products in the world. even more than the kymaro body shaper. and I love that they're covered with a fine layer of the kind of dust that comes from getting in and out of the car to buy gas station slushies and take photographs of roadside everything. because really, that's just about the best kind of dust there is.