this is the process of it all

This last Saturday afternoon, the sun was weak in the battle against the chill of the shady side of the flea market, and J and I prefer more chic silhouettes for jackets than warm ones. In the great battle to do anything but work for the class that is hated by most everyone in our program, we window shopped under the guise of gift shopping. Both of us left empty-handed, save for a Shakespeare-themed light switch cover that I swear my friend will get a kick out of for her upcoming birthday. A better gift is in the works. For lunch, we did it my way. I have a process for most everything. The promise is that it will always take the longest allowable amount of time, and will reap the most leisurely joy possible. We picked the very best slices of cafeteria pizza after much deliberation, and I topped my sloppy salad with just about every bit and bob I could find. It works out 80% of the time. Every bite was chewed thoroughly. This is Michelin, or rather, it's more fun when you treat it as…