I wanted to take a Typography class at MassArt. Really wanted. Like, barely got any sleep the night before, woke up at 6AM, briefly breakfasted on apples and almond butter, and hied my ass hence to MassArt wanted. But I didn't get in. I walked home through the Back Bay Fens I found the rose garden open. Someone was in the hut in the back, someone
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this entire entry sums up exactly why you're one of the most memorable people i've ever had the honor to call my friend.
isolde and i were walking through brussels the other week and we were talking about you--that sounds weird, but we were talking about all the great memories we have of you in tokyo and at SDC and all the really genuinely funny and individual moments you've brought to us. the kind of moments that are so you and just so wonderful. and this is all a bit cheesy but i mean it wholeheartedly and i miss you a lot. ♥
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My dad is 76 and says he doesn't know what he wants to do when he "grows up." He also has more hobbies and is involved in more things than anyone I know (excluding my mother).
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