Seems as though I’m too happy to write here anymore. Nothing really to complain about, aside from my hammock branch getting cut down. I seem to have hung up the orgy-having, love-lust, wonder-struck dyke hat, for my – I can’t wait to clean my windows, bake a chicken pot pie and hold hands with my love apron. I’m changed. And what do I have to say about myself? – “oh hey another happy day. Jee