I just completed viewing an episode of "Ace of Cakes." Nothing in that sentence is in any way out of the ordinary, yet the content of the episode forced me to a heightened level of reminiscence.
A little girl named Laura was flown to Baltimore in order to meet Chef Duff and his gang of wiley cohorts, and to construct a jungle-esque monstrosity made of fondant and everything yummy, all in the name of the Make-A-Wish Foundation.
She was so incredibly happy. Every second. I remember that.
There appear to be these considerable chunks of lifestyle or situation that I have, rather seamlessly, pushed aside from my consciousness. Not for any deliberate, emotional, or overwhelming reasoning, but merely because they seem to complicate who I am, what I seek, what motivates me.
That boisterous smile shall not soon leave my head.
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