farewell, farmer’s market

Let’s not talk about how my hand looks like the tush of a fat baby. Instead: it’s my last weekend in LA, so I marched myself straight to the farmer’s market for fresh fish tacos and other things that start with f, like Fun! Also tangerines. I’m getting real sad to leave. I’m very wherever you go / there you are, which I think sometimes prevents me from actually ENJOYING or BEING where I am. But LA is a lovely, lovely place that somehow compels you to take better care of yourself, take pleasure in the lil things,  and stop and smell the flowers / fish tacos.

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