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Lunchbox Laboratory!

Yes, I ordered my burger for its name first, ingredients, second. How could I not? "Le Truffle Love". C'est Deborah-esque.

Phenomenal. With stuff like bacon-onion salt dusted on their Frenchy fries, they can't be anything but. Pretty spiffy collection of vintage (yay, metal!) lunch boxes to check out while awaiting a good face stuffing, too. I'd like a backstory for each find, were it possible.

And these guys understand the importance of a sturdy bun. Pickles, too, don't forget the pickles. Did I mention shakes? Cake Batter for one, Nutella, for two. Served up in a beaker, no less. It is a lab, after all. I should be a restaurant critic in another life, right after teacher, crime scene investigator, and entomologist. Mmm, make that coleopterologist.

In balancing all that lovely burger goodness, a bit healthier fare, but none the less tasty for it. The kitchen and I remain the best of friends.

Her? We didn’t become well enough acquainted to check for the gender bits. Sam and Soph camped out in hopes of catching this little critter, stuck on showing it off to me. Score! The iridescence along the scaling, lovely. Brown rarely looks better.

At the Movies with Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Fun evening.

We’ve- the Bean, who else?- loved him ever since Angels In the Outfield, a seeming lifetime ago.

He heads up HitRecord.org, a super fantastic collaborational project producing stuff like this. Fun verbiage! Allows me to indulge multiple fixations at one time- images, sound, observation, participation, the telling of a story, and more.

Witness his caterwauling cover of Nirvana. Because it’s Seattle, and he can.

I don't like it. Don’t like feeling it. Sure, on the flip side it can remind us of the gift we have in life, to not fritter it, wasting it on petty junk and such. Problem, I rarely forget to begin with, time is my most precious commodity, I’m plagued by it, in fact, in trying to find what I’m meant for, a purpose and fulfillment, a place I should be for more than a fleeting period in it, desiring only to make the very most of it. I don’t fit, and that’s fine, I’m not about the fit so much as the function.

All thoughts thunk whilst walking a long and winding trail a year and some change ago. Past, meet present, at least you have something in common.