So the stitch pics are here.
And I'm moving. With a busted up leg, jaw, chin. But it's a good move, which helps the whole mess. So now when you come to Cocoa Beach, you can drive down to 15th St., park at my place for free (first come first serve b/c there are only a few spots), put your beers in the fridge, go down to the beach, surf if you want (b/c the break is very nice) or just hang out. Then we can hop on bikes and ride down to Taco City with Miss Bell in the basket (which is actually m.i.a. since my bike incident on the fourth) and eat outside. Sounds good to me. I'm so happy to finally live on (at least within walking distance of) the beach, even though it means giving up my washing machine, dryer AND dishwasher, not to mention tons of storage space, including a garage. I'm also now 20 miles further from Orlando, which sucks b/c I drive to Orlando so much and teach there once a week in the Fall. All sacrifices I'm willing to make. And I'm living with my baby, which makes it even better. I *must* go do some organization now; I'm half here and half there and just dreading all this crap I have to do. You could actually come out to the beach this week and help me move while you're at it.
I won't hold my breath. But the other invite is still open.
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