My Cardboard Balcony

This week was...a very run-of-the-mill week. Nothing hugely eventful. No new complaints. Yes, I managed to enjoy a few Giants games, have some drinks, and see some good friends. Money's still tight, but that's nothing surprising. I have another novel idea bouncing around in my head, which will require some heavy and extensive research, but we'll see what comes of that. Today was my brother's birthday, so tomorrow my fiancée, my sister, and my sister's boyfriend will all be going up to my hometown to celebrate. I'm hoping it'll be a good day, especially for my brother. He deserves it. Apart from that? Work, writing, transcribing, et cetera. So I hate to write another short, boring introspection, but I guess that's par for the course. Could have been worse. I'd rather have nothing to write about than something heinous to write about. Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.

The Eleventh Circle by Belinda Roddie "Why doesn't anyone speak American?" howled the redneck in Hell.

My grandmother had a spectacular recipe for divinity, and no, I'm not referring to anything godlike or holy. She would pass around plates of this sugary nougat treat whenever I came over with a friend or family member, and even after I started bringing my girlfriend along, she would prepare another batch for us. Occasionally, she would replace the sugar with brown sugar, and we would call the candies "sea foam." It was certainly more delicious than actual sea foam, but I enjoyed the name.