Had a strange dream involving a friend who came over and told us she was divorced. Not getting a divorce, but a done deal. Very sudden for everyone it seems. He sold the house from under her, took all the money and left. She was calling her husband some strange things, a sad clown, a stupid birthday cowboy and other weird types of acting jobs. She also said her Mom had not been this upset since her factory was blown up. She said the whole process took less than four days.
Trying to wonder why people do the things they do (and I include myself in this pondering) isn’t worth the brain power and time is it? It’s hard to move forward when there’s a perception that stuff is unresolved. I’ve known closure is a myth for a long time now, but there’s still a lot of what the heck was that all about anyway going on. It’s very strange, knowing that one is so despised elsewhere. Ah what are ya gonna do?
Been taking Emma on an old school Italian food tour of the city, ok we just did a couple of pizza places actually. We went to the Florentine last week. I’ve lived here 19 years and had never been. I had no idea how big the place is. It goes deep into the lot, time and space may even be altered once inside. There are wall sized murals and dark furniture in back. The front looks like a Friday’s. It’s a shame. The bar area has a lot of potential but they may not want that type of business considering the dodgy neighborhood it’s in.
The food was plentiful, even my half portion of fettuccine alfredo that was served incredible hot was a huge portion. The glass of wine was a bit oxidized. The service forced but attentive. I’m glad they’ve been there for a long time; they’ll do fine without me.
I am by no means a golf fan, but seeing fifty nine year old Tom Watson in the lead after the first round of the British Open puts a smile on my face.
1 comment:
Berdawn and I love The Florentine.
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