what time is it over there?



I'm sitting here all with more than usual peach fuzz chin and mustache action going on, wondering what time it is. I might not have left my heart in NYC but I left my razor and watch. Airtravel is weird. Yesterday morning I'm eating a bagel and lox on 9th Ave. in New York City, and then a few hours later I'm eating a hotdog in Chicago at the Jefferson Park Blue Line EL stop. Ok, I guess it's not weird, airplanes are just really fast and I never really feel like I've physically travelled. Like if I went to NYC and back on my bike or something. And I guess what's weird is me eating a hotdog at the Jefferson Park Blue Line El station. But it was good.

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