my last day at the diner. my last sunday morning, at least. I bought chels french toast and dropped a stack of plates on my foot, home fries everywhere. four bandaids now, over the chemical burns on my fingertips. I'm falling apart.


andy called today from the bottom of the earth. wanted to know where he should mail my new zealand wool, and if chelsea would like scuba diving lessons for her birthday present. andy is like indiana jones with a snowcat.


I'm moving in early, and miles is leaving, and chelsea is a senior in highschool. what a strange beginning.

ash @ 10:22 PM