I had some time before the movie started, so I wandered over to that cozy little crepe place upstairs. I walked inside and gazed at the colorful tubs of gelato --purple, green, white-- in particular the espresso bean, with its brown, sugary cream glistening in the fluorescent light, asking to be wrapped in a warm, fluffy crepe, and placed into my mouth.

How sweet you must taste, I thought, you, the sweet crepe.

I should have taken you then into the night, into the confines of the Kabuki, where Japanese movies flickered on the screen, wonderful doses of animation and stop-motion hilarity.

There was one you wouldn't have believed, about a guy who grows a cherry blossom tree . . . out of the top of his head! Little tourist people eventually take over the landscape, much to the guy's chagrin. I won't ruin the ending, but the movie was simply brilliant. Another one you might have enjoyed was about a giant claymation, Bush-quoting head that sang 'God Bless America.' Oh, and the movie about a room service packaging expert also had the crowd roaring.

Yes, it was quite a night at the movies. Now, it's late and I'm back at home typing away, catching up with my fellow bloggers. (Adam, good to meet you. Annie, we must talk Spam. I'm a cookbook-owning fan too. MJ, where you at?).

They will think I'm crazy for writing to a sweet crepe. But I know that I'm only crazy for abandoning my instincts earlier tonight, and ordering a not-so-savory "chicken salad" crepe, filled with what seemed to be just mayonnaise and a piece of lettuce. One sore stomach later, I've learned my lesson. Sweet crepe, never again will I fail you.