Well, Haiti then. I don’t know how to process large moments, grand gestures. Once in Los Angeles, I walked into a roomful of 15ish friends gathered for my surprise birthday party and, after becoming startled and then grateful, I promptly accepted a mimosa and hid in the bathroom to take deep breaths for four, five
I didn’t anticipate a passport stamp to Haiti. But then again, rarely do I anticipate the greatest gifts. Ken, out of left field. Bee, surprise! Even the site you’re reading this on, this glowing rectangle that’s oddly held just enough space for a decade of myself? Wildly unexpected. And now here’s Haiti. I’m going for