——— "I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet."

• blogger
• crossword puzzler
• philharmonic orchestra groupie
• amateur art historian
• tombstone tourist
• pinterest board curator
• administrator

maybe one day...

• magazine columnist
• master's student
• non-fiction novelist
• rose gardener
• fashion writer