Lakeshore Avenue was a parade of cleavage and crazy people this Saturday. "Welcome to the SUNNY side of the bay!" one of the ubiquitous signature-mongers yelled at me the with off-putting gusto after I told him I could not sign his stuffs because I was registered in San Francisco.

Half a block later a woman stopped us and, using an odd, overly familiar tone like we were already deep in conversation, said, "Remember to put your love letters in the mail today so you get them in time for Monday!" So awesome. Of course I totally forgot to mail myself a love letter. But if I had remembered to mail myself a love letter, this is what my love letter would read:

Dear Evany,

When you move, magic tinkles in the air. And when you speak, it rains chocolate in my mouth. May your skin always be clear, your bunions quiet, and your tits high. YOU DESERVE IT!

With much love and buttered things,
I remain,
Yours until Ivory soap sinks,
Evany

(PS: My diary has officially moved over to my official evany.com website. Let's meet up over there!)

(PS: My diary has officially moved over to my official evany.com website. Let's meet up over there!)