I cut my hair. I got a hawk. But that isn't much of an interesting story. I went it and said "Just chop it all off. RAWWWWRRRRHAWWWWK!!!" I didn't even stay in the city as long as I'd like. Ankles. Ankles. Ankles.
So apparently we got a house in Pittsburg. It's a nifty little fix-er-up-er. My room is a basement apartment-esque type of thing. Since when do they allow basements in California? It looks a bit blegh from the outside but inside it reminds me of a lot of SF homes. I don't wanna mention much because all houses seem to slip through our fingers.
Also I'm aching like hell.
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