Go Angels!

Editrix's Note:  This picture is not flattering, but I like it because it isn't a Cheat. The web is full of Cheats now. Aside from a handful of exceptions for a few incredibly talented, artsy and lovely women close to my heart who actually have skills and a vision, I'm tired of looking at selfies taken from odd angles and then Photoshopped into some vaseline lensed fucking fake hot mess. That isn't creation, that's distortion. I played my own little part in the development of that shit more than 10 years ago, so it's no wonder I'm over it now. And yes, that makes me a grumpy old woman.

I picked my home via super precise decision making methods, such as the one featured above. And in spite of my Ice T 6 n the Morning fortune teller origami, I still ended up paying rent on 2 places for 2 months, but at least I get to take my time and paint all of the rooms before I move in.

I'm sleeping here now. Visiting the local stores and whatnot. Buying comics here. Tonight I'm sleeping with Wolverine.

That's all for for the moment. But I wanted you to know I'm safe.

Sleeping in my new place for the third time tonight. Inventory of what's been moved so far:

• 1 pair roller skates
• 17 literary masterpieces
• 8 graphic novels (+4 bought since I moved in)
• 1 bottle of champagne
• 12 handbags
• about 1/4 of my entire wardrobe (and I am already running out of space)
• 1 set of nice speakers
• 1 almost-bed that fits one person (I have to put the Cali King in storage and downgrade for now cause of the size of my new bedroom.  FUCK THAT, but I'm buying a Queen next week)
• 15 pairs of Nikes
• My soul

I was watching a Felix Mitchell documentary the other night and one of his homeboys said:

You leave you heart in San Francisco. But you leave your soul in Oakland.

I'm inclined to agree. I feel like I made it back home.