bela jackson just urinated on our living room floor.

in other news, i've visited two colleges this week. it makes me feel like eighteen and highschoolish all over again. i ended up with a tour of kids and their parents today, walking around a campus that was too big and brick and flowery for me. i spent the whole hour thinking that none of the students looked like me, and wondering why they all had to have the same columbia sportswear jackets and the same silver jettas. it was like pulling the petals off of a flower, saying, not like me, not like me, not like me... like me? no. not like me...

i don't know if i'm ready to go back to a campus where students compulsively wear flip-flops and booty-hugging sweat pants year round.

in the st. john's neighborhood there's a shop called blue moon photo. i walked in to buy a grey card, but at the back of the store there was a small hallway with beautiful restored typewriters. i said to the sales guy, "you have typewriters? this changes everything." we talked type and talked about fixing mine (provided i find someone to help me carry it to and from the car). they're hand developing two rolls of film for me. as he handed me the receipt, the sales guy asked me if i'd like a temporary tattoo, and i said yes. you guys, they give out temporary tats with your photo or typewriter purchase!

could life get any better?