i'm twenty years old now.
i feel like you're not able to be called old until you're eighty.
if you're eighty...i'm sorry. i would call you old.
i feel like if i was eighty, i wouldn't mind being called old anymore.
last friday i heard two different stories from fathers about their daughters.
one man had a 29 year old daughter. he said she was the dearest thing to him. he said when the nurses handed her to him & she was wearing that little pink hat, he lost it. she had him right there and has had him ever since. she wanted to learn the piano, and he bought her a piano.
20 years later she plays him moonlight sonata and he said he couldn't help but cry.
i liked that story. that was a train man.
another man was an artist living in the flat iron arts building. he said that his daughter was fifty. that's all he had to say about her, because they don't really talk.
he said he tries to stay away from her as much as possible.
i didn't like that story.
got my wallet back today from aaron, the nice wallet guy. thanks aaron. he was very nice & friendly. everything was in there. how blessed am i, to lose a wallet in wicker park and have the nicest man find it and return it? so blessed.
our house is up for sale.
i hope it does sell so we can move closer to friends/family/the fellow.
i hope it doesn't sell so we can get a kitten named atticus [curt thought of atticus.]
::note:: curt is worried that readers of this blog might not realize that "the fellow" and "curt" are, in fact, the same person. i realize that i use both names when referring to him. i'm hoping you've caught on to that...
kanoa needs to go outside & i need to go to bed.
[happy birthday dad!]
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