First was too spiky. It's the end of another workweek. I haven't felt like bloggin' in...forever. Spiky wasn't a surprise.
Second was too purply. Too poetical. Edging over the knife-edge brim toward the precipice o' bottomless artistickal obscurity and black turtle-neckedness. I happen to know I'm quite unexpectedly sexy in black, but holding the requisite pensive expression only makes me look constipated, really.
Third was too much about the writing. About Last Joe, and me merrily plotting away just about all of it since NaNoWriMo. But me feeling good about it being Friday and I'd snapped a buncha cherry blossom pics was no good reason to go so far off topic.
Really, this is only about cherry coming into bloom along certain warmer sides of some Vancouver streets. And I've survived another winter to see the stuff.
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