... every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.

[pennygreeneyes]

Well, I'm lying on the (filthy) carpet of my very empty living room, in this tiny apartment by the stairs by the street by the sea.  All that remains, aside from the eight million used Q-tips and bobby pins and balls of lint and pennies, is a small pile of stuff that Amber left behind, and a bunch of random cleaning supplies that she bought over the year that were left under the sink.  I have no idea what to do with them.

Just one last hoorah, I guess.  One last post from the apartment on Cordoba.  It's been a weird year.  Better times ahead, I think.

Matthew is here, listening to his iPod and sipping a bottle of Samuel Smith's Nut Brown Ale.

Yeah, better times ahead.