January 30, 2005

Relevant Renaissance

For over a decade, my life has been a strug­gle towards becom­ing a bet­ter per­son. I’m not sure why I started to live this way, although I sus­pect that it was the result of a con­fused child­hood, grow­ing up with an almost com­pletely unre­strained guid­ance. There was no sense of moral­ity, per­spec­tive, and most impor­tantly, pur­pose. I started feel­ing out my own world­view with­out being con­sciously aware of it at the time, and the result of all of this was a col­lec­tive yearn­ing for self-improvement as an effort to define myself and the things around me.

A few years ago, I real­ized that self-improvement is the high­est form of liv­ing, that the best some­one can do for him or her­self is to be a bet­ter per­son. No other belief has become as impor­tant in my life. It sets learn­ing as the great­est good, no mat­ter what the means. Pain, lone­li­ness, and hard­ship become ben­e­fi­cial. For years, my strug­gle for self-improvement was almost tan­gi­bly man­i­fested. I could under­stand exactly the parts of myself that I wanted to change and make bet­ter, so I would slowly turn my life in that direc­tion. As much as all of this helped me, it was still a struggle.

But even past this “use­ful” world­view or atti­tude is a more abstract goal (I refrain from using the word “pos­i­tive”, because I feel that my under­stand­ing is more of what I con­sider a sim­ple sub­jec­tive real­ism, than the con­no­ta­tion of bias asso­ci­ated with “pos­i­tive”). Whereas a poly­math is some­one with a rel­a­tively aca­d­e­mic breadth of knowl­edge, I try to be rounded in a more gen­eral sense. This means an under­stand­ing and appre­ci­a­tion of any­thing, from humour, to wine, to music, to con­ver­sa­tion, to nar­cotics, to relationships.

Simply put, I strive to be a bet­ter per­son in as many aspects as pos­si­ble. I strive to be a dynamic per­son, who will never stop learn­ing. I want to be able to have a con­ver­sa­tion with any per­son I meet, no mat­ter how dif­fer­ent his walk of life is from mine. I want peo­ple I’ve known for years to be sur­prised by some­thing I may do or say tomor­row, such as Trolley with my orgasm the­o­ries, or Pita with my grow­ing secu­ri­ties. I want to be equally intel­lec­tu­ally and emo­tion­ally pow­er­ful. To not have any weak­nesses. To never stop improving.

To be truly universal.

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January 29, 2005

I Bought A House

A con­do­minium town­house, more specif­i­cally. Two weeks ago I went to the bank, got my credit rat­ing checked, and was pre-approved for a mort­gage at one per­cent below prime (hav­ing no stu­dent loans, no bal­ance on my credit card, no line of credit, no out­stand­ing bills, no debt what­so­ever, comes in handy). I also have a size­able sum of money, left to me by my grand­par­ents through an inheri­nance, which I’m putting towards a down pay­ment. The good thing is that the down pay­ment is more than 25% of the mort­gage, so I won’t have to spend a cou­ple of grand on mort­gage insur­ance alone. Within a few days, I had a real estate agent keep­ing an eye out for prop­er­ties for me. One morn­ing, she sent me the pro­file of a place a lit­tle east of down­town, com­plete with a series of eight pic­tures or so. The place looked great, so I got a view­ing booked that same day.

The house has two floors. The main floor has an eat-in kitchen, pow­der room, din­ing area, and liv­ing room. The lower floor has the mas­ter and sec­ond bed­rooms, a full bath­room, and a stor­age closet. Out back is a lit­tle patio with enough room for a bar­be­cue, and a lawn that can fit enough patio fur­ni­ture for a small gath­er­ing. The pro­file listed six appli­ances included with the house; stove, refrig­er­a­tor, dish­washer, microwave, washer, and dryer. There was only one pre­vi­ous owner, and he was a non-smoker. Everything was clean, solid, new, and, most impor­tantly, com­fort­able. It was a place I could see myself liv­ing at for the next few years, and I had a feel­ing that this was the right one. Even though it was the first place I actu­ally went to go see, I made a bid that evening. At the end of the night, after a bit of nego­ti­a­tion on the pur­chase price, my bid was accepted, and a clos­ing date was set for the mid­dle of March.

In order to pro­tect me, my agent drew up the offer with four con­di­tions; finance, insur­ance, inspec­tion, and approval of sta­tus cer­tifi­cate. I waived the first three con­di­tions within four days. My finances were already approved with the bank, although I did a lit­tle bit of extra nego­ti­at­ing on the rates and saved myself a con­sid­er­able amount of money (based on a 20 year period of todays rates). I also already had a blan­ket insur­ance pol­icy through the condo man­age­ment, and I was sat­is­fied with the house inspec­tion, which found no major problems.

The approval of sta­tus cer­tifi­cate took a lit­tle longer, because I had to review the sta­tus cer­tifi­cate with my lawyer, and there were a few com­pli­ca­tions. The main com­pli­ca­tion was an on going law­suit between the build­ing com­pany and the gov­ern­ment. It turns out that the patios and bal­conies need to be rebuilt because of a mis­take in the mate­ri­als used. If the build­ing com­pany is found at fault, they will be foot­ing the bill for the repairs. If they are not at fault, all condo own­ers in the area will have to pay a con­sid­er­able sum, most likely as an increase in monthly condo fees. I got my lawyer to do a hold­back in trust, for an amount slightly higher than the esti­mated repair cost, with the seller get­ting the resid­ual. My agent got the seller to agree to this (as an amend­ment to the offer of pur­chase), so I won’t have to pay for these repairs no mat­ter what the out­come of the law­suit. The beauty of this is that prop­erty val­ues in the area are expected to increase more than three times the cost of repairs, once the repairs are all done. I waived the final con­di­tion, two days ago, which made the deal firm and binding.

It’s a buy­ers mar­ket right now (no one wants to move in the mid­dle of all this snow), so I got the house at an amaz­ing price. While all of this was hap­pen­ing, my bank did an appraisal, and esti­mated the value to be con­sid­er­ably higher than what I paid for it. On paper, I’ve already cov­ered the cost of land trans­fer tax, lawyers fees, and made enough money to buy car.

I will be able to walk to work. Across the street is a series of plazas, includ­ing a Timmies, a 24-hour Loeb, an M&M Meat Shop, a Wendy’s, a McDonalds, and a Pizza Hut. Right out­side my door, not more than a ten sec­ond walk, is the bus stop for the #2, which can be taken down­town all the way to the west end where I am now. I’ll also have a park­ing spot, which I’ll try to rent out to some­one in the area with two cars. My monthly condo fees cover main­te­nance, so I’ll never have to shovel snow or mow the grass.

Trolley will be rent­ing a room from me to help cover my mort­gage. I decided to amor­tize over 20 years, although it actu­ally comes out to 18 years and 11 months because I’ll be mak­ing bi-weekly pay­ments. I chose 20 years to be a lit­tle con­ser­v­a­tive (even though I’m on a fixed rate), because there are a few things I can do to pay down my mort­gage quicker once I’m more com­fort­able with all the bills. My goal is to pay it off by the time I’m 40, and only move to a larger place when I can afford it or when this condo appre­ci­ates enough to keep my mort­gage payable within the next 15 years.

Can’t wait to move in.

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January 27, 2005

Has It Come?

Tonight I ordered the escar­got, while Tinsley Ellis, a man who seemed to have a cer­tain uncom­plex wis­dom beyond his years, sang his ver­sion of the south Florida blues. I admit that I was skep­ti­cal at first, but was pleas­antly sur­prised by the time his first num­ber had ended, an instru­men­tal piece that one could tell was writ­ten as more than a sim­ple intro­duc­tory song.

And while he sang his words with a com­bi­na­tion of gruff sin­cer­ity and stoic con­fi­dence, I sat there. Wondering why sad music can’t make me sad right now. Feeling some­thing I had never felt before.

Lost in a moment of clarity.

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January 24, 2005

The Inherent Investments Of Happiness

Life is a lot like busi­ness. There’s invest­ment in every­thing, and rela­tion­ships are no excep­tion. One has to spend money to make money, the way one has to give trust to get trust. There’s no guar­an­tee involved that says one willl get their invest­ment back. On top of this, one can choose how much or how lit­tle to invest. Just like every­thing else in life, the more one risks, the more one can lose, or the more one can gain.

And the world can be divided in two accord­ing to this clas­si­fi­ca­tion: those who play con­ser­v­a­tively, and those who play it all. Those who stay dis­tant, and those who throw them­selves into love.

If we’ve been hurt in the past, if we’ve lost all that we chose to give, it’s nat­ural for us to hold back in the future. But at some point we have to break out, and we can’t be scared to give as much as before. The key to liv­ing this way is under­stand­ing that our past invest­ments, rela­tion­ships, have no bear­ing on the ones we have now. It’s like the coin flip prob­lem taught in second-year sta­tis­tics, or, more appro­pri­ately, the Gambler’s Fallacy: even after 10 suc­ces­sive occur­rances of a sin­gle out­come, the chance for the same out­come remains at fifty per­cent. We have to treat every trial, every case, every rela­tion­ship differently.

Life, in rela­tion to peo­ple, is a series of invest­ments. We end up gain­ing from some, but not all. That’s what life is about. That’s what love is about. Nothing is worth it if you don’t put your­self out there. It’s impor­tant to fig­ure out which ones are worth­while, but not as impor­tant as fig­ur­ing out that the worth­while ones need to be given a chance. We need to put at least a lit­tle bit of our trust into them, or noth­ing will happen.

For what use is rec­og­niz­ing a good invest­ment, if we don’t treat it as such?

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January 22, 2005

Joisey Goils

I find this funny. Maybe it’s because I once dated a Jersey girl. She broke my heart, then asked me to lis­ten to Everything In Its Right Place lay­ered over itself with a five sec­ond delay.

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January 21, 2005

Chaos Grows Slightly

Thumbnail: Chaos grows 1

Thumbnail: Chaos grows 2

Thumbnail: Chaos grows 3

Some more pic­tures of Aaron and Karen’s kit­ten, Chaos, taken one sunny Sunday morn­ing when Aaron and I met to work on a busi­ness plan. I think he was off show­er­ing before we headed out for bubtea, and as I sat at the table with Chaos at my feet, I noticed that the light from the win­dows made his fur glow. I had only cap­tured the kitty on (dig­i­tal) film once before, a few months prior. One can already see how his fea­tures will develop when he’s older, with the long, slen­der body, and the aloof­ness of the nose.

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January 19, 2005

Another Rough Day

Wow, it was a rough day. It started off well enough, because I was in what one would call a better-than-average mood before I had even arrived at work. Shirley had stopped at Timmies to get an every­thing bagel with herb and gar­lic cream cheese for break­fast, and decided to also buy me a large cof­fee, which I found, hot and steam­ing, on my desk this morn­ing. It was the first cof­fee I had in weeks, and it sent my heart rac­ing after the sec­ond sip.

I final­ized a two-page ad for a local quar­terly newslet­ter, due for pub­li­ca­tion at the end of the month. The only prob­lem was that, for the last few years, we’ve had a reser­va­tion of only a sin­gle page. The mid­dle two pages of this pub­li­ca­tion are reserved for the most impor­tant mes­sages from the orga­ni­za­tion that runs the pub­li­ca­tion itself, and are most likely the first two pages looked at by its read­ers. My boss, besides being the best fuck­ing boss in the world, was also ambi­tious enough to request the mid­dle two pages (I think of Michael Corleone ask­ing if his credit is good enough to buy out Moe Green). At his behest, I made a call to nego­ti­ate the book­ing of space. I had been prep­ping for this since Monday, being unsure of how to approach the per­son at the other end of the line in order to max­i­mize my chances of get­ting the two most lucra­tive pages in the book­let. They didn’t know how old, or young, I was, because they couldn’t see me, and this was help­ful. I believe that age has worked to my dis­ad­van­tage in the past for tete-a-tete nego­ti­a­tions, because I can see in the faces of older peo­ple how hard it is for them to take me seri­ously. At the end, I offered to reserve two pages instead of one (some­thing which they didn’t know we had every inten­tion of doing, no mat­ter what the result), in return for the mid­dle of the book­let. I was able to get the mid­dle for this month, but unfor­tu­nately not for any sub­se­quent issues. We wanted to hit the local area hard with the energy in our lat­est mar­ket­ing cam­paign, and being the first to take the mid­dle of the pub­li­ca­tion, even if only for a sin­gle issue, was good enough. I told my boss, he shook my hand, and ver­bally con­grat­u­lated me.

Then I quickly fixed up and final­ized the mailout for this month, to be printed on our new cover stock, a great idea by Shirley, because the thick­ness and bright­ness of the stock make every­thing look fuck­ing slick. By this time, the caf­feine was mak­ing me jit­tery. I had slept alright the night before, but I was start­ing to feel tired, espe­cially in the eyes.

I started to work on a one page flyer to go with a spe­cial invi­ta­tion sent out to over 600 clients and poten­tial clients across the city (which also ties in with the adver­tise­ment in the local pub­li­ca­tion men­tioned above — fuck­ing wicked). My boss gave me the mate­r­ial yes­ter­day, and the prob­lem was that it had to be approved by him before the end of the day, because he’s leav­ing the coun­try on busi­ness tomorrow.

I worked through most of the day on the flyer while tons of other mis­cel­la­neous things-to-be-done popped up spon­ta­neously, like label print­ing, printer fix­ing, and back-up trou­bleshoot­ing. By this time, the caf­feine had worn off, only to be replaced by what felt like exhaus­tion. Near the end of the day, after get­ting the flyer mostly done, while colour cor­rect­ing and space adjust­ing, CorelDraw started to really, REALLY fuck up on me. If the print­ing com­pa­nies we dealt with would actu­ally spend some money on higher end vec­tor graph­ics soft­ware, I wouldn’t have had any prob­lems. Instead, I tried to print a file from CorelDraw, and it either spooled for­ever, or told me that there was not enough mem­ory to print (with my 1 gig of DDR RAM). If I tried to save, it either gave me an error mes­sage about not hav­ing enough free space, or crashed, and in the process, made the cur­rent work­ing space blank and saved it. CorelDraw seems to lose sta­bil­ity if any other pro­grams are run­ning, such as Outlook Express or Winamp, while there are graph­ics above 300 dpi in the work­space, and I had over a dozen. In the end, I got the flyer fin­ished, but not before repeat­ing an entire series of steps, sev­eral times, due to crashes while fine-tuning.

My nerves were shot by the time I stepped out­side to walk to the bus stop. For the first time in months, I lis­tened to my on-the-go playlist. I started work­ing on it since the week of UPS crashes in November (which would bring the entire sys­tem down at work, includ­ing tele­phone access), for days just like this.

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January 17, 2005

The Inherent Risks Of Happiness

There is a risk, there’s a risk when your deal­ing with love
You could snap my neck
Any speed you drive can be dan­ger­ous
When this frame fails me
Will I trust you to carry me through?
I know there’s no such thing as safety
But I know what a promise can do

Trust, Thrice

I’ve alway been one to put a lit­tle too much faith into peo­ple. Although this often ends up hurt­ing the par­ties involved, myself included, I’ve always felt like it was worth it. I’d rather give some­one the ben­e­fit of the doubt, and per­haps this is why I end up being let down so much (John would add that my intol­er­ance is par­tially to blame). Some peo­ple don’t like to take that risk and need oth­ers to make the first step, need oth­ers to make that leap of faith. I know, because in some cases, I used to be one of them. One may hold back until they know that the other per­son has as much at risk as they do. It’s the eas­i­est way to not get hurt.

There’s always one per­son who has to make that first step, to lay every­thing on the line. It’s one per­son who has to be the first to go for a kiss, the first to say, “I love you”, with­out know­ing what the other per­son will say in return. It makes it eas­ier, of course, if one can under­stand or accept the fact that there are risks involved in any sort of rela­tion­ship, that not every­thing will go the “right” way.

But that’s what life is about. That’s what love is about. Nothing is worth it if you don’t put your­self out there.

There’s a Simon and Garfunkle song that goes, “The roller coaster ride we took is nearly at an end / I bought my ticket with my tears, that’s all I’m gonna spend”. When Paul Simon penned those lyrics, in the man­ner which he plays with words and rhymes to cre­ate his beau­ti­ful, renowned lyri­cal verses, he should have writ­ten, “That’s all I need to spend”. There’s absolutely noth­ing more that one can give.

Tears are a small price to pay for a chance at happiness.

January 16, 2005

One Of Those Days

I’m hav­ing one of those days, actu­ally, one of those weeks where I can’t seem to write any­thing down. I have all these ideas float­ing around in my head with­out the words to fol­low through. Maybe it’s because I don’t exactly know what I’m feel­ing, like a bit­ter­sweet mix in the palate, or an indis­tin­guish­able taste. For once I’ve started to take con­trol of things, started to be pro-active instead of reac­tive. Started lis­ten­ing to hope­ful, inspir­ing, ener­getic music. I’ve real­ized that I have the abil­ity to point my life in the direc­tion I want to go, that I can’t rely on oth­ers to make me happy, that I can start liv­ing for myself now.

And it’s all new to me.

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January 15, 2005

Single Again

It’s called a changeover. The movie goes on and no one in the audi­ence has any idea.

—Tyler Durden, Fight Club

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January 12, 2005

My Spaghetti Recipe

Thumbnail: Spaghetti in bowl

Thumbnail: Spaghetti close-up

One of the meals I came up with while still in uni­ver­sity was a basic spaghetti recipe. I still have it reg­u­larly to this day, and think I’ve per­fected the sauce now, because it’s nice and thick but one doesn’t lose their noo­dles in it. I’ve never liked the process of con­sum­ing meat­balls with spaghetti, so I’ve always used ground beef instead.

Ingredients:

Makes:

3 gen­er­ous servings

Directions:

  1. Boil spaghetti in large pot. It should be al dente in roughly the same amount of time it takes to cook the sauce.
  2. Brown ground beef in a medium sized pot. Drain.
  3. Season ground beef lib­er­ally with Spicy Pepper Medley and con­tinue to sim­mer for three min­utes, stir­ring fre­quently. (This is too give the sea­son­ing time to bring out the flavour of the beef, which wouldn’t be as promi­nent if the sauce was added first)
  4. Turn heat to high, and stir in pasta sauce. Stir in sugar. Add more Spicy Pepper Medley to taste (I prob­a­bly end up adding about 10 table­spoons to get the spici­ness just right, when it doesn’t burn at the start, but gets hot­ter as it is consumed).
  5. Continue stir­ring until sauce is at a boil. Remove from heat.
  6. Drain spaghetti, and serve with sauce.

Variations:

  • For a chunkier sauce and more com­pli­cated taste, add in a com­bi­na­tion of mush­rooms and onions right before sim­mer­ing the beef in step 2.
  • Use a jar of Presidents Choice Sweet Basil Pasta Sauce for an almost dessert-like spaghetti. The per­fect com­bi­na­tion of sweet and salty.

It’s con­ve­nient because all the ingre­di­ents are shelf items or can be frozen, so it can be used as a backup meal, yet still be hearty enough to be fill­ing. It’s also fairly cheap and simple.

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January 12, 2005

Shaving Habits

When I shave, I always start in the mid­dle, then shave the left cheek, and fin­ish with the right. It’s not that I can’t devi­ate this, it’s that I choose not to. The chin and lip areas are always very irri­ta­ble, while the sides remain smooth and satisfying.

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January 10, 2005

Cooperative Dissent

I have so many things on my mind, so many things I want to write about, have been plan­ning on writ­ing about even, but this seems to be the only thing in which I can prop­erly express myself.

John and I parted yes­ter­day, agree­ing that we would plan to see each other over the sum­mer. It was the first time that we parted with embraces, and up to then, we had always left each other with ver­bal salu­ta­tions. I real­ized that I started ask­ing him for advice, a line I had never crossed with him before. Our minds gen­er­ally don’t match. We may get along well (one may even say famously, in the superla­tive sense), but we also have dif­fer­ent lev­els of tol­er­ance, dif­fer­ent goals, dif­fer­ent world­views, dif­fer­ent strengths and weaknesses.

So what has changed? What has made me trust him in this now, when I haven’t in the past? I rarely heed his advice; it’s usu­ally so com­pletely dif­fer­ent from what I’m think­ing, and I almost never agree on the set of thoughts on which they’re based.

Perhaps this new-found trust is due to the fact that I’m slowly start­ing to under­stand a part of his mind that has baf­fled me in the past: a seem­ingly inher­ent evil. I felt like I couldn’t trust him, because I felt like nobody should trust him, and it became seri­ous enough to make me ques­tion the foun­da­tion of our friendship.

At one point I started to dis­tance myself from him, although later on (per­haps solely) due to the fact that it showed he actu­ally cared about this, I started to trust him again. This made it a blind trust, because it wasn’t based on a train of thought of his that I could actu­ally understand.

Now, I can more make sense of his words, his actions. Even with a lib­eral dose of some seem­ingly heart­less, cold­hearted com­ments (very broad), which even made me feel like a moral per­son, I trust him more than ever.

Why do these words come so easily?

Perhaps he can be viewed as a friend in the log­i­cal sense. He sees friend­ship as a sort of sym­bio­sis, a mutu­ally ben­e­fi­cial rela­tion­ship. Although there are cir­cum­stances which he may find ben­e­fi­cial to dis­re­gard any sort of proper morals (such as a stab in the back for fur­ther gain), he also under­stands that fol­low­ing these morals and hav­ing strong rela­tion­ships is much more ben­e­fi­cial in the long run.

He can’t be blamed for this approach to friend­ship. I’m start­ing to believe that there’s noth­ing wrong with it. In fact, I’d prob­a­bly com­pletely believe in it, if my mind wasn’t so hes­i­tant about admit­ting that I was very, very wrong, and very, very igno­rant. I had always viewed it as a being his approach as being too cold for me to be com­fort­able with it all, but now, I real­ize that as long as it doesn’t get in the way of my own approach to friend­ship, there’s noth­ing that should make me uncomfortable.

And now, trust has solved everything.

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January 4, 2005

Fever Dream

Last night I was plagued by night­mares about being drugged with sodium pen­tothal, held down by sniper fire in a beau­ti­fully fur­nished Victorian home with George Bluth. Between the clinkety-clink of the cubes in her low-ball, Mrs. Bluth said, in a moment of clar­ity, “If you can’t live for your­self, you might as well live for oth­ers”. The words made more sense to me than almost any­thing I’ve heard in the last month. She gave me a clock­work wink and dis­ap­peared, leav­ing us alone against her hired red beams and smoke grenades.

When I stepped out­side to head to work this morn­ing, the win­ter chill star­tled me into a false sense of alert­ness, but it was quickly taken over by a gen­eral feel­ing of uneasi­ness. The dreams were unset­tling to say the least (I haven’t slept so poorly in over a month), and the last thing that I wanted to do was start the day off with a walk on a win­ter morn­ing before there was any light out. I kept wak­ing up every two hours, and as good as it was to feel exhausted enough to fall sleep again, it felt ter­ri­ble to not actu­ally be able. It’s as if I haven’t slept at all, and trag­i­cally enough, I start work for the new year today. I was hop­ing to be well rested for the first day back, but that isn’t hap­pen­ing, so I’ll be fight­ing off a tremen­dous urge to sleep when I get home. I’ll try to burn through it, which shouldn’t be hard.

In any case, I use the words, “more sense to me than almost any­thing I’ve heard in the last month” because John is in town. This is the per­son who knows me bet­ter than any­one else I know, bet­ter even than myself. Within half an hour of arriv­ing, he helped me real­ize that I do require accep­tance in my rela­tion­ships, a need that has stemmed from child­hood, that the best road to achiev­ing my goals is not always the eas­i­est one, and so many other count­less things that I couldn’t have seen for myself. This win­ter break has been the worst in years, but now, John is here. I haven’t seen him in over six months. Yesterday, I couldn’t stop smil­ing, after find­ing him in the peep­hole of my front door.

This is my vacation.

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