. . . up to Washington because it would be less expensive. It was less expensive, but took much longer to travel. That's okay because I ate lots of sugar in the process. So we (my parents and I) traveled safely and arrived in Washington to meet my roommate. He has an amazingly beautiful house . . .
. . . and a kind little dog . . .
. . . named after Pope Chewie III. In this beautiful house with the happy little dog I have my happy little bathroom . . .
. . . with a tub . . .
. . . so deep that I can actually take a bath in it. I haven't had one of those since before I was 12. Of course that has nothing to do with the fact that I shot up a few feet in a few years.
And of course here is my room . . . (don't mind the mess, I'm still getting organized).
So today I had baked potatoes, chili, and cheese for dinner on the countertop with a glass of milk, while staring out the back door into the yard. The screen door had been open for nearly 1 1/2 hours and after Pope Chewie III knew that I wasn't going to beat him to death for stepping outside, he did so and played for a while. He was jumping around the grass, chasing a few bugs, and having a jolly old time. In seeing him do this, he reminded me of myself. I am very careful and cautious. When I know there is nothing to be concerned about, then I go full speed ahead and have a blast. Although personally, I'm not afraid that I'm going to be beaten anymore. At least, not since I moved out of my parents house. (For those of you that can't hear the sarcasm, that last part was oozing with it.)
