Sweet Blog, I Have Returned to You.

And to you only.

Shit's been crazy, I gotta say.

Right now I'm at the shop. It's slow. Real slow. I'm basically here to make sure nobody robs the place and that the sign got flipped to OPEN.

Beast got fleas again. After I got rid of them the last time. Total bullshit. But, I have committed myself to getting rid of them again before spring hits and there's no hope in hell of ever doing it.
Commitment, I say!!

In more recent developments, I have been basically spending all of my time either a) here, or b) the G. The eviction is real this time, and I think I'm having a hard time letting go of the idea of the house not existing. Eight years is a long time, and the void of the G folding is probably a little too much for me to comprehend...

Since I left home, the one constant has been that stupid filthy house. I liken it to a womb. A warm, humming womb smelling of cigarettes, weed, catshit and stale beer. Where you have to clear a path to get through a hallway. And someone's yelling at 3 am every night. And the roof leaks in almost every room during a storm. And when the power goes out, everyone just wakes up and gets drunk because we have an excuse to not get to work on time the next day....

All of the radical life shifts I've seen. All of the people who've lived, partied or even had their frigging hearts broken inside those fucked up walls built by Mr. Kim.

Red swastika carpet. The renovations... The time Johnny got stuck in the bathroom floor. Sarina's reign of terror. Metal mornings. So many kittens.

Jesus. I'ma miss that place.

In other news, somewhat related, I seem to have ensnared the affections of another human being. Imagine! Yes, it seems to be true. Although I don't really know how or why. But I figure it's best to not question it too much, and just roll with the punches. (And hope that it doesn't result in punches?!)

The only punch that is acceptable in the circumstances originates in/around a series of islands the central Pacific Ocean.