-August- Happy Birthday To Me.

Eighteen.

Hey Todd, you're finally allowed to not feel guilty about staring at me like that in all fifty states.

Woo.

Spence has something in NYC he needs me to pick up. Normally I'd argue why he couldn't get it himself, but we've already had our weekly disagreement (twelve years, huh?) and I'm kind of glad to be getting out of the house. The events of the eighth don't exactly give me any grounds to argue on, (as the boss pointed out himself) so I guess it's living in a van for a few days for me.

New York's a ways away and I'll be handling a couple small things of my own; cameras in certain areas and those radio stations are still in need of repair, especially considering one went down with a fire in Manhattan.

(Maybe our little pyromaniacal friend from before? No, no, no, he should be... )

Taking the van. We've got bikes thanks to Spencer's... connections so if you really need to get out there are always those. We're all hermits anyways so I really don't see how it matters.

Love love, be home soon, don't do anything stupid,

August