THIRTEEN.

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Well, I made it

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Well, I made it. Whether or not that's a good thing is something that's still being decided, but with so little to rely on lately, I've been attempting to look for the positives in every situation. Like the fact I'm no longer on that goddamn bus. That's a positive.

After three days of that torture, I finally made it to Venice and found where my dad lives. Also found out that he has a girlfriend named Sasha who has a kid, runs his own hotdog stand, and has about thirty different animals living with him. I got woken up by some Bulldog licking my face this morning. You think I'm kidding.

I'm staying with them for now. Not sure how long that's going to last. I practically had to beg to crash here. Even though my dad is a lot more stable than my mom had described to me a while back, but he's definitely still a mess. Sasha seems to keep him in line. She's a cool woman. You'd like her.

I haven't been doing much since I got here. I've been reading a lot. I spent all last night writing. There's a record store down the street from their place and the owner and I got into an argument this morning. You want to know what it was about? Fucking Pauly Shore. In a record store. I don't even know how the conversation came up. I thought I'd be able to get rid of you by moving across the country, but unfortunately, I don't think that's going to happen. Shame.

Reading. Writing. Sidestepping different dogs and cats. That's been about it in the couple days I've been here. I'm writing to you from some coffee shop surrounded by like three different vegan restaurants. Did you know that you can literally make anything vegan? Sasha's daughter Lily made me try a vegan quesadilla last night. Honestly? Not bad. I dare you to recommend to put them on the diner menu. Luke would have an aneurysm on the spot.

Hope things are good there. I'll let you know how things are on this side once I figure it out myself.

Take care of yourself, Acosta.

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