boring, not boring

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It has been almost five years since the last “my life is boring” crisis. Living in Bermuda provides a sort of redefinition. On the one hand, there is no hipster coffee shop opening in my neighborhood every weekend; there is zero hipster coffee shop in my neighborhood. On the other hand, looking out the window is like looking into a GGM novel

We didn’t travel much in 2018 and will probably travel less in 2019 but planning a trip to Chicago. In 2012, we enjoyed Gold Coast; Oak Park; Wicker Park. In 2019, looking forward to

Wicker Park for chop shop

Humboldt Park for scofflaw: “gin-focused cocktail menu”

North Center (just realized this area is not called Roscoe Village) for bari zaki studio

grateful (COUNT=1520)

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Saturday
Him: Is it raining outside?
Me: O let’s go for a womantic coffee date!

Toronto is one of those (slightly) dysfunctional places where a little rain creates little oceans around the curb. By the end of the coffee date, my shoes were in the same condition as that day when we walked around cape lookout along the Oregon Coast (see picture above).

As we sat outside Rooster Coffee drinking cortado (as always) watching the reflections of the headlights, a pink balloon floated across Jarvis Street.

i++ Rooster Coffee Jarvis
i++ Headlights
i++ Pink Balloon
i++ The Rain
i++ Little Oceans

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