On sometimes remembering that I'm pretty okay.

Sometimes I make strange decisions, and have bad days. Sometimes I don't pay my credit card bill on time and get homesick. Sometimes I don't sleep enough, don't remember to think before I speak, or read directions. Sometimes I forget to take my vitamins, do the dishes, and call people back.

Sometimes I am really loyal. Sometimes I remember to send thank-you notes, and am really good at listening. Sometimes I am a hard worker, and sometimes I would do anything for the people I care about. Sometimes I am a good daughter, a good sister, a good cousin, and a good niece.

Sometimes when I'm feeling really insecure, I just have to remind myself that I am pretty okay.

On moving closer to the water.

I don't think that I've written yet of my move across town. I just recently moved to lower Queen Anne Hill (pictured on the right of the first picture). I live in a little brick apartment complex with creaky wooden floors and old pictures hanging in the hallways. Grocery stores and delicious ethnic foods are on every corner, and book and record stores are in much to close a proximity to my place of residence for my wallet to handle. I am a few blocks from Kerry Park, where you can walk up the hill and look over the city in all of it's entirety, and a few blocks from Elliott Bay and all of it's shimmering glory. I know I talk a lot about how much I love this city. I must sound like a broken record sometimes, but really... who can blame me?