Street of Dreams (Photo 4)

I want to live on this street. I drive on it twice a day, three times a week, and every time I do, I long for a home here. There's not a bump or crack in the road. Perfectly flat and new, it looks like every street you see in a movie about American Dreams.

Course, on the flip side, it also looks like the street you see in every horror movie, right before the monster jumps at you. I choose not to think about that part.

123456789 (Photo 3)

Marking the momentous occasion of the day. At 12:34:56, the time and date read as 123456789 (without the 200 of the 2009).
I was really nervous I was going to miss the shot. It didn't occur to me until later that I could have just taken the clock off the wall and faked it. Oh well, at least I have the knowledge that my photo is "authentic".

My Favorite Sweatshirt (Photo 2)

My favorite sweatshirt. I loved it. It was perfectly comfortable, perfectly worn, and the kind you could just throw on with jeans and flip-flops. I accidentally left it at the school yesterday, on the playground where I was hitting a tennis ball against a wall, and someone ripped it into shreds.