I have to pinch myself at how cute all of these people are, around me, and that they're discussing the history of baking a wheel of bread the size of a stop sign (1 kilo!!). While the art-school budget has finally hit me, and forced me to stop dropping bills on sweet mugs of thick, chocolate-y stout everywhere I go, the food is still good.
Especially now that I live in this big, old house. Mara (gardener/seamstress) and Al (map-maker) are my new housemates, along with this white basket chair placed carefully and oh-so-perfectly on this front porch, where I'm sitting as I write this, watching squirrels and a cross-eyed cat wander by.
Though I don't have a bed yet, I'm starting art school in a little over a week. I went to the coast with my dad, and I'm still reeling from the feeling of being in a VW van again, and I watch them drive by. From where I sit this morning, I can see three. One day soon, a bearded man will pull up and ask me to hop in.
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