Old photo from the Getty, January 2007. Uncle Michael, Gabrielle, Mom, Auntie Shaune, Dad.

I’ve been meaning to write in this thing for days now, and there’s alot I want to say, but somehow it all feels very trite. Work is fine, I’ve been moved to another store, its dangerously close (across the street, really) to Balthazar, where the bread is a daily temptation. Christmas felt good, and strange, all of us being displaced persons. New Year’s was nice also, small dinner at David and Cheri’s which turned into a small party, and we all met some kind and interesting people. But what I mostly wanted to write about was how, a few days before the New Year, Gabrielle and I lost our beloved Uncle Michael to a tragic accident. I can barely wrap my mind around it. I fly to London tonight, and I can’t wait to be with my family. Its been a hard week.