It is 2018 and my friend Steph has complimented on my adult life productivity, as I a) finally got my full driver’s license although I should’ve done that approximately a million years ago, b) made chocolate lava cake 3 times in the span of six days, and c) made my semesterly Costco run. And I have car insurance!
Finally back in Baltimore now – for the past three weeks I was with my family in Vancouver. This might have been the longest break I’ve ever stayed in one stretch for the past four years. My major accomplishments included:
- Eating food and catching up with old friends at the same time. Meeting some new ones.
- Learning how to park without backing in. Do people differentiate between front park and reverse park when they talk about parking? Because see point 4.
- But I didn’t get to meet up with all the people I wanted to see.
- I really sucked at front parking, as I cannot see beyond the ridiculous bump on the dashboard unless I crank my seat really high. For instance, when I took my sister to the mall, I might have scraped my mother’s car… by going in and out of the stall in rising panic because somehow the car didn’t want to cooperate with my frantic wheel turns.
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- My solution: “No evidence of the scrape!” I shouted to no one in particular as I checked the car after we fled to a different stall (actually my sister’s mortified suggestion) . I silently thanked the Vancouver Rain Gods for the sheet of drizzle which may have hidden my faux-pas from prying eyes.
- My sister’s solution: slowly dying in her seat, and burying her face into her seatbelt as her soul evaporated from second-hand embarrassment.
- The real solution: The car’s paint actually did get slightly… jostled and my sister (who cannot lie to save her life when guilt is involved) ratted me out in a cathartic, hysterical giggle when our dad walked near the driver’s side and noticed the white streaks near the headlights.
My sister looked at me as he shouted grunted a worldless noise in horror. “SHEDIDIT,” she blurted, as if the faster the words were said, the faster she would obtain absolution.
“Traitor,” I yelled, and whirled around, only to be faced with outraged looks on both parents. (I should probably add here that I scraped the other side of the car when I first learned how to drive. Four and a half years ago. I really couldn’t see! And didn’t realize that seats could be cranked higher!) - But I am much better at parking now. When you’re absolutely terrible, the only way to go is up.
- Moral of the story is to not have kids because they will Mess Up Your Stuff, and try to conspire behind your back to not tell you what they screwed up. If you’re my dad, you just might resort to familicide.
One of the things I wanted to perfect this break was how to creep people and draw them without seeming like a true creeper. In retrospect, airports are probably not the best place to practice this skill.

As promised, here is the incoming Star Wars art. I’ve been getting many questions on where to buy prints, so I decided to link it here. Someone also requested very kindly, for a drawing of Sebastian Stan as Anakin. I am all too happy to oblige. (It’s in progress.)


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