moved in. Uncle is one of the sweetest, most generous people I know. Today, I asked to borrow the car to go shopping and he said we should go together and he bought everything. His house is open to everyone, his fridge is open to everyone, if he knows you like something he'll make sure to get it for you... he's just lovely. He cares about people, and honestly wants you to do well and succeed and be taken care of. I feel like I'm in A Home. This is good for me.

Moving was an exhausting pain in the @ss. My foot hurt so bad by the end that I thought I was going to throw up. House full of crap that people have left there over the last 10 years, all had to be boxed up and taken to the garage. Had to clean after roommate threw an eviction party--which was fun, but a little too much for my taste. Fun, though. So, yeah, possibly the worst moving experience ever. No one wanted to help or work. Three of us ended up doing nearly everything--and one of them didn't even live in the house.

The dogs! Oh, the dogs. They are the sweetest 7 pounds of fur you will ever lay eyes on. They're bushy and wiggly and loving and their barks sounds like they've perpetually lost their voices. Muted little puppy yipping. They love being held. They'll be all excited and twirling around, and the minute you pick them up they just go limp in your arms, so happy. Or, they try to climb up to your neck to nuzzle. I'm in love.