I'm here watching my fiancé put together the bookcase my dad gave me for Christmas. In case you're wondering why I'm not helping, he won't let me. New Years Eve was fun, but rather dangerous. Thomas caught his hair on fire and got hit by a firework. I got temporarily deafened by an artillery shell that blew up on the ground rather than in the air like it is supposed to. Several other mishaps with explosives occurred, but I do not feel like listing them. I would have pictures, but alas, I only just found my camera battery charger. I therefore have no pictures of Christmas, the after Christmas visit to VA/D.C., or anything else. Oh well, besides the loss of memory inducing pictures for when I get old, it was probably good for me. I was forced to experience things directly rather than at one remove through the camera lense/as events than merely existed to be photographed. The only picture I have of the holidays actually, is one that I drew of Thomas/the fiancé. More to write later. I better go see if he'll let me help now.
Cheers!
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