A Place To Call My Own

I HAVE A PLACE TO LIIIIVEEE!!

I found an apt in Seattle. I heard it's a huge non-walkable hill away from the trendy bar/gay neighborhood but I'm okay with that. It's about a mile and a half from school. Also, according to Hummus and my super inaccurate measuring system (lining up head to toe on her floor) it's probably a decent sized apartment for one Watermelon. (That is Watermelon me and not watermelon the fruit).

Update on my car bump/ticket: I had to pay the full ticket and got points on my license :( At first I was really upset at the judge cuz I've heard of other people schmoozing their way out of these, and then my roommate pointed out that I had a fair judge and there was nothing to be upset about anymore.

So I have realized over the years that I am pretty much a huge flake when it comes to plans, but at least I recognize it. Is it better for me to know that and use it as an excuse to be even flakier, or should I try to fix my flakiness??

Last thing, after reading the fork heart knife blog, I've decided I want to add "yayaya" to the ends of my sentences too :D