Wang's Kitchen

i miss the smell of flowers in the cold winter air; the smell of my coffee in the mornings; Giang's vietnamese pork ribs in the night. Bach's gentle suites playing into the wee hours of the mornings because i forgot to switch it off (or rather, didn't want to) , and Giang's gently strumming guitar as he sings of love and love lost. I miss slapping Lewis's skinny ass; and saturday mornings watching EPL and the badgers kicking some ass. goddang i miss saturdays, where you have absolutely nothing to do as you wake up in the mornings with the windows half open in cold, to the shouts of drunken happy red badger army commandos on their way to Randall. and that you can wear whatever you want to the capitol for marigold's kitchen (duck confit and in house ancora roasted coffee beyatch!) and farmer's market. and again, that you can wear whatever to Great Dane and get absolutely wrecked at a quarter of what it costs here to get wrecked and posed at some poser fucking place in singapore.

i miss my last year in madison. Sure, life was stressful but the cold kept me alive and happy, because everything seemed to be simpler there. Being here absolutely sucks.