today=greatest day ever
this is my ideal day, in the words of a young lady in japan:
I love bikes! This one has a basket in the front for my bag, I had my trusty blue hoodie, the white stripes via ipod, and my mother’s camel colored scarf wrapped around my neck like a noose. My belongings and I cycled to the ubinkyoku to send letters off to Fayetteville and New Jersey, then got magnificently lost in the late afternoon sunlit fields and winding roads of the outskirts of Tokai. My fingers and nose were completely frozen. Then I found my way back and went to the tiniest green coffee shop ever. I was the only customer. The proprietors were an elderly couple consisting of a small but dignified man in a sweater vest and a fat woman lounging on a couch watching television. They were amazing. I am going to start haunting that place for sure. I ordered some steaming hot coffee and wrote to Zach on a Basquiat postcard that my dear friend Allison purchased for me not long ago. When I had gotten reasonably toastywarm, I went back into the cold to bike once again to the post office. By then it was getting dark and colder than ever, I shivered and shook and sent it off and then hurried, lickety-split, back home. I came in with a smile and peace of mind, and here I am.
My favorite part about Japan is that they sell hot coffee in vending machines.
I love bikes! This one has a basket in the front for my bag, I had my trusty blue hoodie, the white stripes via ipod, and my mother’s camel colored scarf wrapped around my neck like a noose. My belongings and I cycled to the ubinkyoku to send letters off to Fayetteville and New Jersey, then got magnificently lost in the late afternoon sunlit fields and winding roads of the outskirts of Tokai. My fingers and nose were completely frozen. Then I found my way back and went to the tiniest green coffee shop ever. I was the only customer. The proprietors were an elderly couple consisting of a small but dignified man in a sweater vest and a fat woman lounging on a couch watching television. They were amazing. I am going to start haunting that place for sure. I ordered some steaming hot coffee and wrote to Zach on a Basquiat postcard that my dear friend Allison purchased for me not long ago. When I had gotten reasonably toastywarm, I went back into the cold to bike once again to the post office. By then it was getting dark and colder than ever, I shivered and shook and sent it off and then hurried, lickety-split, back home. I came in with a smile and peace of mind, and here I am.
My favorite part about Japan is that they sell hot coffee in vending machines.