...flew out the door...

I'm pretty sure a big aspect of my growing up would involve learning to read my own emails from boys I like, without having to ask Farnam to read it first and prep me for elation or devastation, as needed. To her credit, today she finally refused to humour me. "Dude", she said, "just read it".

I did.

If things continue to drop slowly, so slowly into my field of vision, I will never be able to move on. Last week, my anthem was hateful. Today it sounds something like the hook to The Twist - "I want it, it is you; you are where I want to be".

Today's comfort and soul food: Amelie, ash reshteh, and a long walk in the sunshine listening to Dave Matthews, nostalgia como su voz.