Can’t believe we’re already in the middle of July. How are you doing? Mom and Aaron were in Pennsylvania these past few weeks and got back on Sunday. I didn’t mention this because I am anxious about projecting “I’m a girl all by myself in a house, and thus easier to murder” to the internet. Anyway, they had a lot of fun: apparently they have lots of groundhogs, bunnies, fireflies, Amish people, and Trump supporters over there. They stole a 50-pound beach rock of sentimental value to Aaron. Personally, I’m tired of travel, so I don’t regret not going. I spent most of my time working and hanging out. I picked from the cherry tree and there were 1000000 even though I was too scared to use the ladder. Does our neighbor (I’ve forgotten her name, the one who was allergic to apples) still let kids pick from her apple tree? It’s very nice to have fruit just right there for you.
I went to Pride in Tacoma on Saturday with one of my friends, and it was lots of fun, if a bit consumerist this year. A guy came with the exact same specific ‘you’re gonna burn in hell’ sign as last year, so I’m suspecting it’s a family business. The same guy dressed as Jesus was following him around, which was also fun. We got lots of trinkets and free candy before going back to my place for a sleepover. It was lots of fun. Eugene must have a pride event, have you been to any? Highly recommended, they have such friendly atmospheres. And free candy. It’s like Halloween for us old people.
Aside from this, not much else is up. Paris and Achilles are so used to my friend being over now, very good for their limited social development. I have been very low on energy of late and making little art, a poor sign for mental health. Mom says I finally need to develop a caffeine habit. It’s in consideration.
Oh, yeah, by the way, the assassination attempt. I’m just surprised it didn’t happen sooner. I heard about it at pride but my data was so bad I couldn’t read anything about it, which made for a weird mood. It did feel appropriate at pride though. The last time I saw you, I didn’t know who Donald Trump was. I suppose you didn’t either. When I learned, it was the same summer you were kidnapped: I was in the car with Mom and asked who he was, and she said he was ‘a rich idiot who thinks he’s going to be president but never will’. Hopeful times…
I miss you. I suppose it’s redundant to say. I turn my sorrow over like a rock and find a hundred new angles to feel it from over time. There’s little else to do with the passing years.