thirty; Bird, Schwinn Beach Cruiser

We both confess that we don’t accomplish enough in a day, but I’d argue that she’s done quite a bit.
In Cusco, she missed Machu Picchu but caught a stay in a squat with some Peruvian punks promoting the rights of indigenous peoples.
In the Bay, she works twenty-hour weeks at a coffee shop, lives in a house Named Hell(arity) with thirty other people and volunteers for Food Not Bombs.
She’s got a thing for the hand-made and tells me to write Zines, not Blogs, and suddenly she flies off to read the backs of documentaries at the video store.