Writing for me lately has been hard.  Writing for me this week on vacation has been beyond hard.

I’ve had so much time to do other things than write.  Things on the beach.  Things at the park.  Things even in the room.  But above all things with Sharaun and Keaton and friends.  And in the end, what’s better?  Forcing some writing while in a slump or taking a little break and enjoying some coffee while the ocean breeze rides the sun, tangy-salty through the open window.

Last night we went to dinner at a place called Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles.  It’s down near Crenshaw in L.A. and it’s exactly what it sounds like: fried chicken on top of a waffle, syrup and all.  The restaurant was lit inside by red and yellow neon and overhead fluorescents.  Walking in the place looked like something right out of a Tarantino film.  We did this sans kids and went late; Roscoe’s is open until midnight.  We had spent the afternoon at the beach and had worked up a good appetite.

Today we’re going down to feed the ducks at a big pond.  Sharaun is perpetually excited that we’ll run into celebrities (we’ve had sushi with McSomebody from TV and a second-handed brush with some world-famous surfer guy).  Maybe we’ll run into Natalie Portman at the duck pond.

I’ve been sinning though; checking work e-mail regularly on the phone.  Not responding, but checking.  So far I count four “aww craps” I have to react to.  I’m trying to hide from them just for another couple days before I have to come back to reality and face them.

And now I’m going to hide from the reality that is blogging; goodbye.

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