It doesn’t get much better than eggs or milk.  I know when you read it, it’s not enticing, but when it’s in your life, it’s comfort.  Soft boiled eggs smeared on toast points, perfectly seasoned… there’s something to that.  Something you get, like a right of passage, when you’re in your own space, with your own stove and grocery list.  Maybe it’s true what they say about eggs being life.  And milk, whenever I read about it, it makes sense and feels comforting. I love the skin that forms, protective milky white comfort.   "Dipped in milk" now we’re really talking.

I want my life to be dipped in milk with a side of soft boiled eggs on toast points upon fancy china.  Kosher salt, an herb, and clarified butter.  Sue me.  And people think I’m complicated; I’m just italicized.

Thankfully, there are easier friendships than souffle (view)




  1. I am a lurker, a late night one at that. I just thought I would pop in and say my kudos. I love most of your entries. I disagree with a minority of them. My blog is nearly two years old and I don't have the traffic you have (sporadic writing, unable to settle upon a name, lots and lots of complaining), but I keep reading yours daily. Thanks.

  2. I'm trying to picture what you were doing at 1:30 am when these thoughts hit you, you said to yourself 'ah-hah,' and you ran for the notebook and red pen. I'm sittin' here at 3:30 drawing blanks…hmmm, thanks…got an idea…

  3. Another fascinating peek into your mind… Thanks for sharing, and I hope you have a great year. Love those party photos too. Such sexy hair!

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