i stopped using conditioner in my hair. all three feet of it.

i still have no pictures.

somebody get a camera and come take pictures of me. make me laugh, steal my smile, catch me unaware, print my thoughts on my face and between my brow. reproduce the shape of my lip, the glance of irritation. the way i sit, the curve of my bad posture.

i came home in the evening a couple weeks ago and there was a note on the board for me to call my mom. I thought, "yeah, I'll call her, when i get back from class or something. no big deal."

I went into my room and checked my email. There was a note from my mom, subject line: Dingles (her maiden name), content: Bethany, Call us so we can update you on some family health issues. My thoughts: "oh shit, my Grandpa died."

Needless to say I was quite glad when I called her and she said she'd call me back because she was on the other line with my grandpa.

and I take another breath. Never stop breathing.