Portland

Thirty-six hours on the train. Loralee and Woodlawn. Lunch with Mohr and Britney. Showing Baz around for the third time, priceless.

Reno

We dropped Baz off at the bus for camp, hustled up to Nevada. We spent time drinking, talking, laughing. We came together, rediscovered.

It was awesome.

I'm with her

Adam and I first met at work. There I also encountered a woman I'll call Sue, because that was her name. Sue had battled breast cancer and won. Unfortunately, that did not give her any more of a holistic perspective. She was a bit of a bitch, if I am to be honest, and I am to be just that. 

Donald Trump is just as blind. Son of a bitch gets nicked -- nicked! -- by a bullet meant for his head, and still he hasn't learned anything about life.

He's an idiot. And I'm with Kamala.

Watching this guy with no arms walk around outside this cafe

Really, the post title is what it's all about. 

From my new project

I'm 27 years old, and I'm lost without a path. I can't find the Czech Republic on a map. I still think it's twinned with Slovakia. I've barely heard of the Velvet Divorce.

My point is that I'm running. Fast and far, as rapidly as my stumpy legs can take me. And I've just hit a dead end that resounds globally. 

And now it's summer

I like summer. I like the slow pace and the it's-okay-do-it-later attitude. Things seem quieter, more chill, and that's because they are. Baz is doing the summer things: summer school, camps, and so on. We went to the Alameda County Fair yesterday in Pleasanton. It was cute as hell and he loved it. Very cool.

Boys are out of town

They're in Southern California. I'm home. It's quiet. Not too quiet, just quiet enough. It brings me back to living on my own, to what that was like. No one to answer to. Nobody to come home to. 

Advantages, disadvantages. We all exist in the in-between.