My mom says that she hopes she will die first, just so she doesn't have to deal with my father's record collection. The albums were hiding under stairwell storage units, in cabinets in the garage, underneath the barbecue. Now they line the walls of my parents' two bedroom apartment, stored in colorful mixed-chip boxes that are exactly the right width.

I went to a party in Woodland purchased two pieces of art from my dear friend Loie. Buying my first piece of art from a friend has to be one of the highlights of my adult life.