<-- [This is where I go on my morning run.]

The only thing I like better than my parents bringing me stuff is my parents per se.¹ But this time around (yesterday) they came with strings attached, i.e. camera ubs cords, kitchenwares, hard apple cider and/or information about my impending trip to Ecuador². Thanks, guys.

So yesterday Jake and I, for the first time in many moons, formally (with a sensei) studied the sweet sweet Japanese language, and it was invigorating, somewhat validating, and wholly enjoyable. I feel like a new woman, mayhap because of the nihongo, or perhaps due to the conclusion of the week-long master cleanser. Even more likely: a 50/50 combination of the two.

And now, a good picture (courtesy of roommate) of what we incorrectly, yet consistently, refer to as the "CRUX"³ of our complex; the V-shaped courtyard into which are packed myriad stairwells, bicycles, etc. It's noiiiicceeeee, and has a sugoi-urban feel to it.

¹perhaps used incorrectly, this phrase has been the focus of heavy discussion in my life lately, and I'm trying to work out the kinks. Just be ok with it.
²during which will be relived many fantastic experiences to the tune of this one.
³a CRUX that Jake's papa likened M.C. Escher's "Relativity.". By Jove, he's got it.