This past weekend I read 4 books (The Historian, The Glass Castle, Echoes from the Dead, The Secret Life of Emily Dickinson), and took a mini road trip with Brian down to Stanford & Palo Alto to see his lil’ bruddah run track for Notre Dame in some big college track conglomerate. The best part was seeing all the girls do long jump and repeatedly hit the bar, as if it was their first time ever doing it. [But these were the best college long jumpers in the country!]
Anyway, it was lil’ bruddah’s first time seeing the Pacific Ocean, so cute. I guess my first time was when I did a California road trip with brothers/grandma/uncle when I was 12 or 13? Scott kicked my awesome globe hacky sack from Ghirardelli Square off the Golden Gate Bridge, I hated LA even at that age, the only thing I remember about Sacramento was eating at Hard Rock Cafe, and the boys and I bought lots of 2-dollar bills from a slushie shop in the San Diego Wild Animal Park.

I have a love of holding tiny sea creatures. Even if dead. Stupid Radar breaking my coral still makes me seethe.

Catching diseases from touching discarded seagull feathers…

Brothers, both over 6 feet, always make me feel like a rotund miniature.

I like this for the hair but hate it for the chin.

I’ve been doing my hair like ribcages this past week.













