My only lame joke in life is, that I refer to love as L’oeuf, aka the egg. And whilst this post is somewhat ‘scrambled’ in its articulation, I hope it will still provide clarity as to what constitutes the perfect egg, with that golden-orange yolk, all molten and viscous, running deliciously into the shining whiteness enclosing it, oh the beauty! Let’s get started.
I have this theory about love. I believe that we have a finite amount of love within us for any given person. What really happens when we fall in love is, not that we are constantly falling deeper in love – we are simply recognizing and acknowledging it as it reveals itself.
Bear with me here, while I think up an analogy. Continue reading
Dear Future Husband,
you can’t just show up one fine day and say, well here I am, let’s do it.
You know, it takes time to bake a cake.
You can’t just take the ingredients – flour, milk, eggs, butter, sugar, baking powder – throw them in a bowl, and say “Voila, a cake! Let’s eat it.”