Burnt brownies

Sitting on the futon listening to an excerpt of a book I want to read by Myla Goldberg - I'm not certain I've had a thought as artful sounding as Myla's written sentences, while Bill makes pink trees at his computer.

Bill came across software earlier this week that allows users to generate repeating and random images, or something to that effect, It's freeware. There is now a blue tree and a black tree sitting in my office space - the leaves on these trees are feather like and extracted from a children's story book that hasn't been written yet.

I get up from the futon to cut off some of the brownie I made earlier this week, slight worried that more of the brownies than not will go to waste. So I have a sense of "doing my duty" about eating them.

"These brownies are better than they were a few days ago," I say to Bill while standing over the kitchen sink eating.

"Oh yeah," says Bill, turning around in his computer chair, "better how?"

"Softer, I say, thinking it over, they were also less burnt tasting.

I'm going to make a map in the next two weeks examining the wonderfulness potential of downtown Los Angeles. The criteria I am using for my map will be novelty, enjoyability, affordability, and the potential for meeting new people. The bounding locations of this map will be the 10, the 101, the Los Angeles River, and the 110. This map will be subjective yes and I need to do some research on other areas in downtown than the usual circuit of spots I enjoy.

Broccoli happened not once, but twice, this week at dinnertime.