3 Months Without A Moment To Breathe

And 13 days until Colorado.

I have this belt, it was my father's, it's a wide and leather with a big brass buckle and it's older than me by far. I had to poke a new hole in it with a jack knife to make it small enough for me, but it's the absolute perfect belt. They never make women's belts like this.

Today, after graduation, I went to Village Inn with two carloads of friends. My 9th grade English teacher was there. She'd gotten fired for being too controversial; the woman swore like a sailor and gave it to students bluntly whether or not they could handle it. She said, while eating a slice of coconut cream pie, that she had been throwing away her graded papers and she'd come across an analysis paper I'd written on "The Secret Life Of Bees", in which I said the honey in the book was a metaphor for religion, and she'd kept it rather than throw it out. This was a higher compliment to me than you can imagine.