Sweet mother of pearl. I feel like wet laundry. Bedraggled. Note to present and future self: this body circa 1981 cannot quite withstand 20 yr old late night shenanigans. Drowning achy sorrows in my new book and Day 8 Olympic Swimming finals. Goooo Phelps!
In other news: Yarn Bombing. Guerrilla knit-meisters on the prowl. Removable granny graffiti.
What a brainwave. 1) who has the time or inclination for this? 2) only in developed nations and 3) why are people so awesome?
