i'd rather be where the hills are burning.




and i think claws would win.
he could just use his giant pincer to chop jaws's fins off.

sometimes...
when the world gets you down. when you dont want to get out of bed in the morning. when tim hortons gives you the wrong order/coffee that tastes like dish water. when your car wont stop stalling out on right hand turns. when you have a doctors appointment at 8am every single day this week. when you are cranky...

you just put on the only cd you have in your car: queen - greatest hits. and you sing. and sing. and sing. and the world is a better place.

the only way it could get better is if you saw this guy in your backseat.

farewell

(mindy's camera, my hand)


everything has now come down to countdowns. x's on the dry erase calendar. text's with many, many !!!!'s
day by day by day by day goodbye to so many days that i cant even remember because im too consumed about what to do with the days with you.

i am amazed at the things that kittens do that could potentially kill them i.e get caught in plastic bags and drink water from the bucket you just used to mop the floor with.

the worst week of my life has just passed. i only made it through with the help of a few people. you know who you are.

i just cant stop feeling exhausted. i fall asleep at 10pm every night, unwillingly; in places one should not fall asleep.

here are a few stories about my brother, andrew james latchford.
b. june 3rd, 1985
buffalo, ny

when andrew was 5, he went hunting turkey with my dad. i have no idea why my father would even consider letting a 5 year old out into the woods with guns around. ???!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!? my mother had the excuse of being clincally insane. she was probably busy talking to herself while hiding all of my favorite pairs of pants. but dad? what the fuck?
anyway. andrew went along because he wanted to sit in the tree stand. tree stands are fun, by the way. i made my dad put one up in our neighborhood tree and it was THE BEST.
so my father's friend needed some help with something, and my dad wanted to help him. absentmindedly, he handed the shotgun to my 5 year old brother. BLAP! andrew pulled the trigger and flew to the ground (blap? i dont know.) now, i dont know exactly what my dad was thinking, but i was told that he instantly threw up, turned and ran to my brothers limp body, and frantically tore my brothers clothes off in search of a bullethole and blood. GUESS WHAT! andrew didnt get shot. he actually laughed really hard when he finally came to.
(dont judge my dad based on his bad judgement. i love him.)

we used to go to this cottage in long beach, canada. family friends owned it and every summer of our life was spent there. every summer we listened to the beatles, pretended we were mermaids while "scuba diving" (masks and snorkles and water 5 feet deep,) played hide and go seek in the pitch black backyard, and walked to the big rocks. the beach was rocky, and in the very center of the bay was a half a mile stretch of boulders separating the rocky beach from the sandy beach. we called them the Big Rocks (obvs) and made it a point to climb them, make forts in them, and in my brothers case, casually stray away from the group and poop in them. the end.

the last day always hurts my feelings. it cuts me deep.
even with 2nd degree sunburn and hangovers every day, this trip has been the best by far.
my skin is peeling off; we did that duet perfectly; "this is all i ever wanted"

but all the prospects! decisions regarding where/when/how life is going to start are being made and we all know that once i get something in my head, im going to make it happen.
there is a living room and a best friend waiting.

OH YEEAAHHHHHHH!