Liza Palmer

I have a theory about pink pastry boxes. So much joy comes from those boxes. When someone walks into a room with a pink pastry box, joy immediately fills the room. World peace? Three words. Pink pastry box. I get a big cup of coffee and finalize my plans for world domination.

It__ what we__e all trying to do, right? Remember a time that was better. Re-create a moment of that memory as we let the crisp Coke bubble down our throats. Riding bikes on a summer day. Sitting on the curb and watching the streetlights come on. Playing in the sprinklers with a group of neighbor kids. We__e all trying to salvage a time when we dreamed beyond our reality and thought monsters were under our beds instead of peppering our family trees. We__e trying to harness those fleeting moments that turned our ordinary lives into something extraordinary. In the sepia haze of those memories, we are beautiful.

Funny how you can get used to not having things you thought you couldn't live without.

Once you taste a little of the sweetness that life can be, there really is no going back.

. . . mixing defensiveness with anger - a wonderful mix, by the way.