Mistaken Identity Department

So I'm living in San Antonio with my folks, kinda...regrouping. For one thing, back this Fall, my landlord sold my apartment building in Williamsburg for (what I hope/suspect was) a TON of money, Williamsburg real estate being very hot these days, so I had to git, after six years living there. So I moved in with (in a platonic way, you understand--I mean, I rented a room from) a tiny German minimalist painter just a couple blocks away from my apartment building, who was subletting rooms (illegally, it turned out) in his giant art studio. Then he got evicted this Spring for illegally-subletting rooms, and coincidentally I graduated with my B.A. from the New School, so I decided that rather that trying to find another cheap W-burg room, I'd come home for a bit and stare at my diploma (which has yet to arrive) and weigh my options.

Grad school?

Move to a foreign land and teach English?

Write freelance, grouse, and listen to a lot of José González?

Well, for the time being, I've decided on plan C.

Barbara (which is what I call my readership, collectively), you can even read two of my efforts

here

and

here

I have more to say about all of this, and I will.

How're y'all?