Whatever this ailment is that has kept me in bed the past 3 days, it has now turned into a sore throat.

I never get anything fun like prophetic fever dreams. (Unless there really is a volcano in the Pacific NW that is going to erupt with angels on July 10th and Oprah will teach me to ride horses and shoot a bow & arrow, in which case, you heard it here first folks.)

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About J.

A former twentysomething with a head full of curls and heart full of questions wondering: when we get to nirvana, will there be food?
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