27. Friday is always a slow blog day. If you judge your self-worth by your blog traffic - and you know you do - you probably feel like a big loser every Friday. And I know, I know, this is not a "thing about me." Seriously, though, do all of these things have to be about me? I mean, just because the name of the project is "100 Things About Me," does that necessitate that all one hundred things be about me? Does it? It does? Oh, okay. Fine. I'll do number twenty-seven again.
27. I have a friend named Florica, though everyone calls him Stefan. He's Romanian and he's a painter. He did the painting that's hanging over my mantle. It's a view of downtown Fort Worth from the old coffee shop where I met him (and lots of other people.) There is also a restaurant up the road, an Italian place called Nick's, in which Florica painted all the decor. There is some amazing artwork in there on the walls (literally painted onto the walls, not hanging on the walls,) and they've just closed down the place. I hate to think of someone else moving in there to open a steak house or a pancake joint or something and just taking a paint roller to the walls. I know that's what will happen. Some hired contractor will come in there and blast right over the artwork with Glidden semi-gloss. It's sad. I want to break in there and steal the walls. I really do.
Yes, this is sufficiently about me to count. I'm not doing it again.
Hello, friends. I'm sick of me. Tell me about you.
Later. Love.
