First, i returned home from the Sasha + Digweed show with that skull radiance of an acid trip. A giant gorgeous club is a stupid place to dose, especially when they won't let you out for air if you want to come back in, but also because the general state of overwhelm and mild nausea only gets amped when the DJs set a new record for loud and i (
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Been thinking of you--i hope you're well. xo
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Do you have skype?
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Thank you. For an irreversible turn of fate, the whole thing has been rife with weird blessing--i mean, i am totally surprised.
I do have Skype, but i have never actually used it. Do i have to have a number or something to let you know when i'm signed on?
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Which is certainly not to say i don't miss her. I haven't gone hiking in over a month--that was our thing, never just mine for as long as i've lived in hikeable places; i haven't ventured yet to see how i'll fare without her. There was no fun like throwing sticks for that little dog, no cuddler like her, no peace like sitting under a tree in the snow with her running up for a scratch and some love. There is no dog-dance on earth quite like hers, maybe ( ... )
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