Today I washed my hair with one of the many conditioners my subletter left behind.
Now I am wearing a small dead flat bear on my head.
Rosemary says I need to rinse with white vinegar.
I miss New York.
I'm a thirtysomething gal who's abandoned her fat cat, excellent career, and cramped studio in New York to brave the wilds of Berlin, all by her lonesome.
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