I am done, done, and done.

School is through and I can't help but think I've managed at least three A's. I'm pretty sure I got a B in Art History through the 15th century, but that is fine.

Now, one might think that it would be time to relax or do some holiday shopping or maybe even clean this slovenly hole that we usually call a home, but no. No, not so much. This is because, as I've said before, I seem to have a combination of rotten bananas and refried beans inside my head where a brain should be and actually thought it a good idea to agree to make a still undetermined number of rather stylish hand-cut, hand-made Christmas cards for a friend. Oh, and he'd love it if they could be FedEx'd today. This would not be such a hassle if, oh, I don't know, I was getting paid or something.

I will now show you my final photography assignment (which was not my final. That was a photo essay bound into a book that I was very pleased with, but have no desire to upload). I bit the bullet and did a self portrait. It's not great, but I'm pleased with it. It's very me, I think.