This summer I ate:
1. Egg salad
2. Camel meat
3. Donkey meat
4. Goose liver?
5. And lots, and lots of pig ear, except it’s been given the name of “Thousand crunchy layers.”

I was complaining to my mom today about my utter lack of creativity and elicited this very entertaining and liberating response:

“Oh, then just be a doctor. Memorize stuff and make sure you don’t operate on the wrong part, that’s all.”

Look out folks, here’s Harmy comin’ at you, wielding a scalpel.

Gasp–Yesterday, I decided to open up my brand new Henle edition of Bach’s English Suites. The spine broke. Cracked like Africa (you know, because it’s on 2 diverging plates.) Split like the Church in 1517. Crumbled like a mung bean cake. Maybe it didn’t like being on an airplane.

Maybe it needs a chiropractor.