the final american post: 1/6/14

Hi friends,

Well, it’s here. And it’s almost gone: my last day in America for a while.

What’s happened since I last posted?

Wednesday came and went. Thursday – with lunch with Julia and coffee with Robin which really means we hung out for a bit at her apartment before I went to dinner and to see Kinky Boots with the family – came and went. Lily and Sophie came on Friday – and went. My shopping spree on Saturday which was brief with a stop at the Gap and at Barnes and Noble came – and went. And in a surprise twist, my dinner with Gab, Alexia, and Laura came and went last night. I’m glad they were the last friends I saw. It was a blast and the conversation was hilarious. And today with all of the crazy running around for last minute Q-Tips and shampoo and stuffing scheisse into bags has come but not gone yet. Tonight is the Last Supper – my “final” meal in America, everyone’s been treating it like I’m never coming back – at George Martin, my favorite restaurant in town, with the family.

My previous post, I felt WEIRD. The theme was weird. Today, the theme is impatient. Like – get me on the plane already oh man. Impatient. I’m so excited. I don’t know how else to describe it – I’m too excited to come up with another word. I might be scared but it’s time. You’re not ready until you commit. I’m so ready. I’m so pumped.

I don’t want to set any goals for London, even if in the back of my head I have a list. I just want to be. Take what’s thrown at me and do what I can with it and have the time of my life doing it.

I don’t want to say this is the way it’s going to go or this is the way it’s going to go because in reality I have no freaking clue how it’s going to go and I can not hinder myself with expectation.  Ja feel?

And so, it’s nearly time for dinner and I must get dressed.

Until tomorrow –






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A Very Good Place to Start: the first journal entries 12/29/13-1/2/13

Hi friends,

Since we’re starting a new chapter of my education and of my life…

Let’s start from the very beginning.

A very good place to start.

My name is Kevin Gagen Berry.

I am a junior at Skidmore College in upstate New York.

I am a theater and gender studies double major.

This is the blog I run as a part of my job for Skidmore Communications.

I’ve been writing it for the past two and a half years and I love it.

I love being alive.

I’m sitting in my bedroom in Rockville Centre, New York, right now, listening to a podcast conversation/interview/thing about a theatre artist named Daniel Alexander Jones.

In just under 5 days, I am leaving behind everything and everyone I love to move to London for six months, where I’ll be studying at Goldsmiths, University of London.

And I’m absolutely scared.

I’ve gone on a roller coaster of emotions over the past few months – from the inevitable excitement that came along with my inevitable acceptance into the program to the feeling of being overwhelmed with all of the forms and the papers to sign with my acceptance packet, from the nervousness about living across the ocean for six months and missing my three closest friends’ college graduation to the “annoying-ness” (word I made up because I couldn’t think of the right word but oh well, if quidditch is in the Oxford Dictionary, then I can make up a word too) of the lame duck period between moving out of my dorm at the end of the semester and my flight’s takeoff next Tuesday. I’m scared, happy, excited, nervous, sad, anxious, pumped, pimped, prepared, unprepared, a child, ready to learn, ready to go.

I was crying on my last night on campus, when I said goodbye to my friend Sydney, also a #SS2S blogger, and I cried a lot in my last two weeks on campus, so I have to specify which occasion of weeping this was, ya feel me?, and I cried/moaned/sobbed


And Sydney said, “you’re not ready for anything until you do it. You’re not ready until you commit.” So I guess I really have been ready all along, when I committed by sending my application acceptance deposit in, and that I’ve just been coming to terms with being ready, if that makes any sense.

So, this notebook (blog). The notebok I’m writing in has the British flag on the cover and I made the theme of my blog match appropriately. Once I get to London, I’ll be writing in my journals every day, as much as possible, about as much as possible, about my experiences – theatre, classes, the people, the clubs, the pubs, the food, the travel, The Royal Family. I’ll be as honest as I can be, and then post versions of my posts on my blog.

I have 5 notebooks – daily journal, food and drink, theatre, travel, and “other.”

So that’s that.


Have I started packing yet? Absolutely not. I leave in five days from today. Which is weird, so weird. So much to do in so little time. Seems like such a short interval of time – five days – but so much is happening between now and then. Today, I’m in the city for lunch with my friend Julia and to see my friend Robin and then to get dinner and see Kinky Boots, the musical, with my family. Tomorrow (Friday) I’m seeing my friends Lily and  Sophie, if the huge snow storm doesn’t get in our way.  Saturday I need to run around and go shopping with my sister to get items before I leave. I pack on Saturday, Sunday, Monday. Sunday, my friends Alexia, Laura, and Gab are coming over for my last homemade dinner in America. On Monday, we’re going to my favorite restaurant in town for my last supper. And then on Tuesday, I ship off. ISN’T THAT WEIRD? It’s weird.

These last two days [Dec 30 – Jan 1] I was in Massachusetts at one of my friend’s homes for New Year’s. Emily was in Berlin this semester, and we had to fit an entire school year’s worth of shenanigans into three days. It was a blast, and I got to see Emily’s friends, and our friends Gina and Emma. It was so fun.


So that’s where I’m at, I think.

I’m looking forward to England.

This’ll probably be my last post for a while that ends with “Measure in Love” SO CHERISH THIS OKAY? CHERISH IT.

Measure in Love,



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Pre-Departure Jitters

Hi friends!


Starting this week, most likely on Thursday or Friday, I’m going to start posting condensed versions of my journal entries as I get ready to head to London. As I start this new chapter of my Skid Journey, I’m going to start like I started at the beginning, with a little less cynicism about my education and life. I’m extremely excited to share this part of my life with you as I travel and study and live abroad for six months. Next week, I’m going to post a version of the two “preludes” I’ve written in my London journal. I’ll squish them into one post and it will be lovely.


I’ve decided that I’m going to address my journal entries, and by extension, my blog posts, to the first TSA agent I encounter when I depart JFK. And so for the semester, my posts won’t begin with an enthuiastic Hi Friends!, but rather a “Dear…” so and so. And my posts perhaps will end with something British like “Cheers!” or “Snog you later!”


Until Friday, though –


Measure in Love,



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Last Post on Campus for a While

Hi friends,


Well, it’s here. It’s really here. The day I move out of Penfield. And I think it’s been a pretty good run in 317. I really loved living here for the past three semesters, even if I did complain about it a bit.


Last week was just insanity, with classes ending and everything, so that’s why I didn’t post. Today, I’m packing and getting lunch with a friend and then more packing so that I can hopefully be able to go downtown tonight for a bit of karaoke.


The social event of the season was last night – my going away dinner. If you weren’t there, you’re nobody. And I only invited my 9 closest friends. SO YOU’RE ALL NOBODIES NOT DEBUTANTES IT’S MY PARTY AND I’LL CRY IF I WANT TO.


I’m ready for London. I know that. I’ve cried a lot about how scared I am for next semester, how scared I am to go to Europe, but that’s not exactly accurate. What I’m scared for is to leave Skidmore. I’m scared to leave this place for nine months, and that’s enough time to have a baby. I’m scared that Skidmore will go on like normal without me, I’m scared that my seniors will not miss me and then graduate, I’m scared everything good that started happening in the last two weeks of the semester will reset to the way they were before I come back. This all sounds extremely selfish. I don’t know. I’m very nervous. And excited. And sad. And happy. It’s just everything. I’m all over the place. I’m a mess. I’m a mess.


I really need to pack. I’ll write over Christmas once or twice. And then I’ll be posting LIVE from LONDON so stay TUNED AMERICA.


Measure in Love,



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Okay So I’m Not Dead

Hi friends!


I’m alive! I’m alive and well and 21! I’m 21 which makes me a grownup!


Okay, so when we last spoke, I was about to get #surgery. I think on Monday I went and just did my thing at Starbucks or watched movies and TV all day like a big lumpy lump. On Tuesday, I turned 21, which was awesome. I went and picked Bridget up at school, and then that night, my parents took me out to dinner, where I had my first drink ever as a 21-year-old. I don’t really need to talk anymore about that.


Then the next morning, Dad and I got into the car and we headed to New York City, to Mount Sinai Hospital where I had my bilateral inguinal hernia repair surgery! Yay! They give you these drugs to make you loopy before they anesthetize you, and I was apparently having a GREAT time, and was quoting children’s cereal taglines up the wazoo: “Silly rabbit, Trix are for kids;” “They’re grrrrrrrreat;” “Crunchatize me, Cap’n;” “Illusions commend themselves to us because they save us pain and allow us to enjoy pleasure instead. We must therefore accept it without complaint when they sometimes collide with a bit of reality against which they are dashed to pieces.” Just the good stuff. And then I woke up and felt like someone had tried to kill me in my deep sleep. Turns out they had just repaired my internal system. And I was sore from being inflated with gas and they made a Kevin Balloon. Yum, visceral imagery. There is no such thing as Too Much Information in this day and age. And so I woke up feeling beaten up. And then a few hours later, I was able to go home. It was hard to walk for the first day or two, and then I was a little peppier like the Starbursts Berries and Creme Man and now I’m spry like a spy fox, sort of.


Thursday was Thanksgiving, and I slept until noon. I realized this year that I don’t like Thanksgiving food. Like, it’s good and all, it’s just so overwhelming. But I could eat my dad’s mashed potatoes and stuffing until I die. Like that British lady who has only eaten cheesy potatoes for 30 years, which is a reference I’ve made on this blog before and I’m not afraid to admit it. That woman is my hero. But it was good to see the family, and I love them and they’re good people and I took a lot of selfies with them and me making the duckface.


On Friday, I went to the city with Gab, who I call my SkidMom as you may or may not remember, and we ate at oen of her dad’s restaurants, and then went to see a stellar production of George Bernard Shaw’s three and a half hour epic play, Saint Joan…acted by four actors. It was incredible and innovative and smart and sad and funny  and I loved it.


Saturday, I woke up and did a few post-Turkey chores, and then went back to the city, where I met my friend Zoe and her family for dinner and another play. The play was awful and it shall remain nameless but Mary Louise Parker was in it and it was dreadful and she was dreadful and she looks like a candle like if you set her on fire she would melt and smell like cake batter or seashore sunset or vanilla or champagne or something, she’s a Yankee Candle, a human Yankee Candle.


On Sunday, I drove back up here, which was fun and a lot longer than it should have been because of CRAZY traffic and I hate traffic and it’s the worst and I was dressed like a young sportsman and I was a mess. And I loved it. Coffee coffee coffee. Sunday night I went down to Druthers for dinner with Alexia and Gina and then we saw Frozen which was a blast.


Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday were just class days, and they were fine and it was just like Kev take it slow week because we have to be sensitive to my healing body. Friday, all I had was Theatre Company, wherein we critiqued the mainstage production, and it was a pretty harsh critique, but it was the best talkback we’d had all semester, and the professors in attendance were very appreciative that we were so passionate about our feelings about the show.


Today I woke up late and came to Uncommon, where I’m writing this post post after finishing a major project for my Theatre Production class. Tonight I’m seeing the last workshop of the semester in the theatre and then going to the Sonneteers a cappella winter jam and then going to Junior Ring, the semiformal dance! Fun!


Something I can talk about briefly is the downtown scene, now that I’m officially legal. I won’t go too far into details, but Saratoga has a pretty unbelievable bar scene, and it’s a lot of fun to now have the privilege to take advantage of such a vibrant nightlife scene. So that’s my .02 on that.


Tomorrow I’m working on another set design and resting up for the last three days of class.


It’s weird to think that I’ll be flying to England exactly one month from tonight. It seems so close and so far. I have so much and so little to do between now and then. I’m very scared and excited and sad to leave my friends. But I can’t believe it’s really happening. And I’ll probably cry at the airport. But you guys, meaning my faithful readers, all 2 of you, will be there with me, as we travel to ENGLAND.




Measure in Love,



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Hi friends,


Happy Pre-Thanksgiving Saturday night. I’m home on Long Island, just needed a few days of before break began to really prepare myself for the big day. Just kidding.


Turns out, two or three weeks ago, at the Anne Bogart workshop that I wrote about, turns out that beyond really hurting my ankles and palms, I also gave myself a minor bilateral hernia that would require reparative surgery. So I came home on Wednesday afternoon and went straight to the laparascopic surgeon in the city. He’s from South Africa and has such a cool accent. Sometimes, if no one’s home or if I’m in my dorm room with my door closed, I’ll try and say things in a South African accent. Just weird things. I’ll quote Spongebob with the accent. I don’t know. It’s a very hard accent. It’s a fascinating. Especially when you’re saying things like “You’ll regret this Krabs, I will get the secret recipe.” So I met with the surgeon and I’m going in on Wednesday for the big event, which I’m told is not a big deal but I think I’m just getting excited for it just so I don’t go in scared.


What’s great about this situation is that all of my professors have been super cool and understanding about the whole thing. Whether calling them or e-mailing them or talking to them in person, they’ve all been extremely supportive and caring and just want what’s best for me. And for my hernia, which I have named Anne, in honor of the woman whose workshop caused it.


Anyway, since then, some cool stuff has happened. The mainstage production for the theater department this semester, Back County Crimes, opened last weekend. It’s good. Personally, I hate the script, but the cast does a wonderful job and has a lot of fun with it. The Choreo 2 show that I was working very hard to do the lighting design for came and went without a hitch! I’m so proud of the work I did and of the work the class did on the class designs. Oh, also I was asked to design the lights for a play last minute, so I did that before I left, which was an intense and brief process. And fun. It was a fun process.


Tuesday night, the night before I left, Alexia and I had a spur-of-the-moment date night and we went to Druthers for a delicious dinner and then even more spur-of-the-moment, we went to see 12 Years a Slave at 9:30 at night. And OH MAN. Oh man. The movie. Oh man. So gruesome. So intense. So depressing. So powerful. So hard to watch. So perfect. It was the best movie I’ve ever seen. Beyond the film’s brutal depictions of American slavery, and looking beyond the film as a docudrama of America’s most sinful era, the film is about the tenacity of the human spirit when it is being willed to live – by the self and by those around us. It was just incredible. “I don’t want to survive. I want to live.” So many incredible things I could say – the cinematography was off the charts, the acting unreal, the writing so fantastic. I can’t even. I just can’t.


On Wednesday morning, I left at 8am. Gab drove me to the Amtrak station, but before that, we got my last pumpkin spice latte of the season and a Putnam sandwich for the ride. Then off we went to Amtrak. The train arrived early, which was nice. OR SO I THOUGHT. Because once I sat down, all hell broke loose and it only got worse. First off, the woman  two rows behind me, for the entire five hour train ride, moaned, just loud enough for me to hear. Whether she was in pain or getting a really good deep tissue massage or even if she was praying, I don’t care, she sounded like Satan, she was moaning Satanically. I was riding the train with Satan. At the first stop, which was in Schenectady, this unassuming woman gets on. She smiles at me, and then starts aggressively flirting with the conductor when he comes by to check her ticket. It would have been a more successful flirt if her laughter didn’t sound like a combination of a baby laughing amplified by a thousand and a herd of wildebeest stampeding. Okay, so Satan and Baby Laugh are doing their thing, and Baby Laugh settles down but turns on a funny movie or something because she’s baby laughing the entire train ride and I’m like “what to heck, can this get any worse” and it turns out IT COULD. IT SO COULD. AND IT DID. Dad and Son, as we’ll call them, are a man in his early 30s (Dad) and a boy around 4 or 5 (Son). Dad and Son get on after the old people at Albany. The old people aren’t really annoying, it’s more like where are you going, you’re old, sit down. But Dad and Son. Okay, so we have Satan spawning in the back, Baby Laugh getting a kick out of her movie, and Dad and Son. Son has a temper tantrum and then it’s snack time. And they had cheese. Just cheese. A lot of cheese. And it smelled moist. I had to go to another car for some fresh air. I was ready to scream. And then they got off at Poughkeepsie and at Poughkeepsie, the Loud Family got onboard and they fought all the way to Penn. And they didn’t just fight about anything. Oh no. They were fighting about the Kardashians. This is not a drill. This is America.


On Thursday night, after getting the freshest haircut ever, I went to the city to see a dance piece. It was depressing and I felt like I needed a heavy drink afterwards. But it was expressive and made me feel something beyond the norm. Last night I saw the new Hunger Games movie alone. And tonight, I watched an hour of wedding flashmob videos.


But this morning, I woke up early, got some coff coff, and drove to Staten Island, to Wagner College, where my sister is a freshman. I parked the car, and started taking Snapchat selfies at various locations on her campus. She opened all of them in a few minutes, and then called me to find out what I was doing there. “I’m seeing Zombie Prom!” My sister is on the wardrobe crew for one of their musical theatre department shows, and there was a matinee today. “Kevin, it’s sold out,” Bridget replied nastily, as if I were really that stupid. “Aha! I have a ticket!” I said. “How did you get a ticket, it’s sold out,” the Queen replies, glaring at me through the phone. “I’ve been planning this all week! I wanted to surprise you!” I said. She spat into her evil little spittoon and said “Fine. I’ll come out and say greetings.” Then she slammed her flip phone shut.


Just kidding, she was super happy to see me and her show was a lot of fun and I like her friends and they’re good people. We got dinner and I drove home. I read a play and watched wedding flashmobs.


Sunday and Monday I’m just resting, relaxing after the long crazy semester. Tuesday I turn 21. But Wednesday I get surgery. So we’ll see how my 21st goes, I guess.




Measure in Love,



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Quick Update

Hi friends –


I’m already home for Thanksgiving!

A week earlier than anticipated, because I have to get a small surgery next week.

I’ll post soon and fill you in on my life!



Measure in Love,



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Keurig is Crack is Whack

Hi friends,


Happy Hump Day! Congratulations, you did it, I did it, we did it together, we made it through more than half of the week which means the weekend is almost here.


Speaking of weekend, I’m about to watch a movie called Weekend, a British gay romance, which most likely means I’ll cry.


Anyway, when we last spoke, Polaroid Stories had just ended. And I had rediscovered what free time means. But not really. I’d been in the dance theater prepping/teching for the Choreo 2 show, which is this coming weekend in the dance theater and I am so so so excited. So Monday night was my last night in any theater for the week, until dress rehearsal for the show on Friday.


And I’m ahead on all of my work.


So I’m letting myself have the next two nights to myself, to really treat myself to a cozy night in bed with a book, or in tonight’s case, a movie.


Last night Piper Kerman, whose memoir, Orange is the New Black, is the basis for the Netflix original series of the same name, came to talk, courtesy of Speakers’ Bureau. She gave a speech about the prison system and spoke about the series’ as an adaptation of her own book. It was interesting, to say the least. She’s a great speaker. I wasn’t sure if there was much of a thesis to her lecture, but she spoke it well, which I appreciated. Nice lady too, and pretty funny.


My dad was here this weekend, and that was a lot of fun. I took him to one of the comedy shows and he had a great time and we went out to dinner and then to Northshire, the bookstore in town, where I got a new book. Lovin’ livin’.


Okay, I’m getting hungry. Love you!


Measure in Love,





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You Know That Thing Where You Only Listen to Sad Showtunes?

Hi friends!


Well, free time. It’s weird. Now that Polaroid Stories is over, I have lots of free time and it feels really weird. Like, not empty, because I still have work to do and stuff. It just feels weird. Working extremely intimately with fifteen people or so for five to six hours a night for six weeks and then just stopping that very suddenly – it’s weird. So I’ve been getting some writing done, and some reading done, and I watched Beasts of the Southern Wild on Saturday night, and I’ve been listening to lots of sad showtunes and minimalist music and the new Head and the Heart album, which is very fabulous and wonderful and makes me feel like I’m in a quirky indie movie while walking to class. I am quirky and indie. I also wrote a stage direction in my new play that reads, “Somewhere, miles and miles away, an orchestra starts to play their version of ‘Woodstock’ by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. We can’t hear it, but the idea that it’s happening is wonderful, isn’t it?” WHAT DOES MY BRAIN MEAN.


What a weekend I had though – Anne Bogart, one of my theatrical idols, came and did a physically and intellectually exhausting workshop in which the six groups each created a small devised theatre piece. IT WAS AMAZING. And I’m still reeling. She told me I have great spirit, and her partner in crime for the weekend, famous experimental choreographer Barney O’Hanlon thought I was funny. SO BLESSED. But seriously, the worst part of this weekend was that I wasn’t able to get her to sign my copy of one of her books, and it was only because I forgot it. It was great that Anne Bogart was able to come, thanks to this awesome annual artists’ residency program that the McCormack family (I don’t know who they are, but they’re my heroes now, so…) sponsors at the college. Love them. Love Anne. Love theatre.


Also, this weekend was Spectrum, this semester’s Pride Alliance dance. Let me remind you, please, that I’ve got the gay, so this weekend was like an even glitterier version of Christmas. And and and, the theme of the dance was space. So basically, I dressed like I normally do when I wanna look fresh, put on my Lady Gaga (by the way, ARTPOP leaked in full, and I can’t decide if I have a full love or a full hatred for the album because it’s so all over the place, literally the Amanda Bynes of pop music right now) stunner shades, and walked around at the dance with my friends, just yelling “Look at me, I’m in SPAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAaaaAAACE!” This was Saturday, when we had the workshop from 1pm to 4pm. Then I watched Beasts of the Southern Wild which made me want to try catfish, and then went to the dance. National holidays are exciting. I love school-sponsored dances, especially when they’re so LGBTQ+ friendly. Skidmore is such an open campus when it comes to this stuff. But Spectrum is just great, it’s “our night,” and as someone who never had that type of night in high school or anything even close to it (hashtag conservative catholic school) Spectrum is really special. Being able to be so open about being myself is really special. I love Skidmore.


Today was my theater production midterm and I can happily say that I got a perfect score because I am perfect. (AND I HAVE GREAT SPIRIT, ACCORDING TO A FAMOUS DIRECTOR.) After that, it was nice to have some free time, so one of my besties, Robin, and I went downtown for a date. She and I might as well be dating. I call her my boyfriend. We went to Starbucks, where I worked on my new play and researched 19th Century Russian names and dances. Then we went to Comfort Kitchen, which was DELICIOUS.  I’d never been there. Just had a burger and some tots, and a ginger beer (it’s NOT ALCOHOLIC) which is good because you can never find delicious ginger beer anywhere outside of Hogsmeade. Hashtag you’re a wizard Harry.


Then, I saw a theatre workshop production, which was good. After that, it was straight to the dance theater for me, where I was working with a choreographer to design the lights for her dance piece that I’m setting. It’s a really cool collaboration between classes – Choreo II and Dance Production. I wish more theater and gender studies courses collaborated with each other within the majors. But it’s really a great experience to have – to be so encouraged to collaborate. I love it. Iconopop.


I guess that’s where I’m at right now. I’ll try and write with greater frequency now that Polaroid Stories is over.






Measure in Love,



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Hi friends!


I miss you!


Happy Sunday!


I’m laying in bed writing this, I’m so so tired!


My sister was here this weekend! I love her, she’s a great gal. We ate a delicious Italian dinner downtown with Gina, Jon, and Alexia at Cappriccio Saratoga, the best Neopolitan Italian place in Saratoga! In other news, I wore skinny jeans for the first time this weekend. It was awesome.


I ran 10 miles and felt amazing but then today felt very ill while running. Hashtag Dehydration Hathtag No Good For You


I’m literally and figuratively exhausted.




Measure in Love,



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And I have lots to tell!


I’ll write tomorrow night, once she’s on the train back to New York City.




Measure in Love,



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Things Are Getting Better

Hi friends,


I’m back fresh and in the flesh I’m here I’m here I’m Kev!


After an extremely long and emotional past week, I’m well-rested and feeling much healthier and happier. Of course, grieving is a process, and the rest of the semester in the theater department now has a certain weight to it that will drive everyone’s work and push us to do our best in memory of and in dedication to our lost teacher and friend.


Well. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s see. Where to begin.


I’m officially going abroad! Getting my act together and taking it on the road. Items on my Abroad Bucket List include taking a picture where it looks like I’m holding up the Leaning Tower of Pisa, finding Cruella de Ville in London and proposing marriage to her, going to lots of museums and theater pieces and concerts and international football matches, and of course, getting taken like in the Liam Neeson classic film Taken. London Spring 2014 here we come! I want my dad to call my kidnappers and talk to them just like Mr. Liam does in that film, what an excellent film, so excellent. I would also like to try and get to Venice and perhaps return to Rome.


Is it Friday yet?


I didn’t have the Monday blues today, not that I normally do either way, but I was more cognizant of the fact that today was a happy Monday. I had an incredible acting class today. So exciting. So real! And rehearsal tonight was top notch, I was screaming in happiness for most of the time. I love the rehearsal process. It’s such a way to remind myself I’m alive and blessed.


Tomorrow, I have my birth class, which is sure to include a graphic birth video; and Dance Production, which is sure to include okay no joke to make here because I love the class too much; and then Funky Plays, which I’m quickly realizing is a class on Eastern European Modernist Drama! Revelations revelations! And then, as usual, rehearsal tomorrow night, which is going to be good, I know it.

I just want Friday to come though, because that means ROAD TRIP. Alexia and I are taking an overnight trip down to Brooklyn to see one of our theater professors perform at the Opera House at the Brooklyn Academy of Music with SITI Company, a group whose work I’ve been dying to see. They’ve been collaborating on a piece for over a year and a half with one of my favorite choreographers, Bill T. Jones and his company, on a piece about the premiere of a ballet by one of my favorite classical composers, Igor Stravinsky. To say I am excited is an understatement. After the show, Alexia and I might get dinner, might see a hip Brooklyn concert, who knows. We’re going back up to Westchester to Lex’s house to sleep over and cuddle with her dog Loretta and to see her parents, who I love.

Until then though, it’s just keepin’ on truckin’. I love it here so much.

Measure in Love,


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Hi friends –


Sorry I haven’t posted. It’s been an incredibly emotionally exhausting few days.

On Saturday, I had a memorial for an important theatre professor who passed away over the summer.

And last night, we, as students of Theater Company, were told that another fixture in the department, Dave Yergan, had passed away.

It’s been hard.

I’m tired.


Measure in Love.



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Hi friends,


The world is beautiful.

The weather is beautiful.

The sandwich I had from Putnam Market downtown the other day – though already digested through my body – is beautiful.

My room, having finally cooled down, is beautiful.

Even doing laundry is beautiful.

I have friends who love me and I love them.

My schedule is beautiful, now that it’s settled down.

Being able to breathe, even if it’s just a little, this week, is beautiful.

Life is good.


I’m doing well. I think.


No. I’m doing well. I know it.


I feel it.




Measure in Love,



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Updates Galore

Hi friends!


It’s been a while, but I have a good excuse – This past weekend (Thursday to Sunday), I spent an incredibly exhausting, but beyond exciting 43 hours in the theatre (including a 4 hour nap one of the days) sitting in auditions and callbacks and post-callback meetings and casting negotiations for the Theater department shows this semester. Literally that’s all I did. No parties, no seeing friends, no shopping. Just the theater. It was AWESOME.


Except, now, I’m sick. Which stinks. A terrible cold made worse by exhaustion and self-imposed stress. I took the afternoon and night off to sleep and do laundry (and write this blog post). Tomorrow, I’m meeting with Lary Opitz, the chair of theater, to go over my abroad application and get his approval for my course choices for my time studying abroad next semester. Casual. That’s something I’ve also been busy with – applying to go abroad. I’m getting my act together and taking it on the road to London for six months next year.


My grandparents are coming to visit on Friday, which I’m super pumped for, because I miss my family and I miss my dog Rosie, and they have a dog, Bailey, who reminds me of Rosie in that both dogs are complete queens and are so regal. One time, Bailey looked at me, and said “Off with their heads” regarding no one in particular but I bowed down to her because she’s a queen.


I miss my friends. This semester is odd, because a ton of my friends (including my 4 best friends Lily, Abby, Sophie, and Emily) are all abroad and my senior friends (and most of my junior friends, including Jon Lemay, my best brother in the world) are in Northwods apartments for the year while I’m here in the dorms. I feel disconnected, and it’s going to be a difficult semester without my friends, but I’m doing what’s best for my educational future and I’m going to do Giant Things while I’m in London and I’m going to create plays and worlds for characters to thrive in. I don’t know. It’s a weird semester.


Classes are great so far. I’m taking 7:


1. Funky Plays: “After the Industrial Revolution, ugliness became accepted in the world of the arts.” A class where we read weird plays so far off the beaten track it’s amazing they were ever written or performed. So strange. Gautam, the professor, is a fascinating man and I love him.


2. Production Seminar: The academic portion of my position as assistant director on Polaroid Stories, the blackbox production this semester. Fun!


3. Intermediate Acting (Suzuki): A very rigorous, specific type of actor method training. It’s so fun, so sweaty, so satisfying. I always feel like I have to say Namaste at the end of class. There are only 6 students in a class that usually has 25-30, so it’s very personal.


4. Dance Production: Learn how to light for dance! There are 7 students! #blessed


5. Theatre Production: Learn how the theatre works! Mwa! There are 9 students in a class that usually has 20. #SoBlessed


6. Intro to Theatre Design: I can’t draw! But I have to for this class! It’s all about set design! Why am I ending all of my sentences with with exclamation points?!


7. Born In America: It’s about Birth. I never want to have a c-section. Ugh. So graphic. So gender studies. But seriously, the class is awesome, and Mary Lynn, the prof, is a complete gem. She literally wrote the book on Skidmore College, “Make No Small Plans.”


The first years are all so great! Having worked with them for the past 8 months or so, they’re all so excited to see me. LOL. I am a celeb.


Alright, time to shift my laundry to the dryer.


Measure in Love,



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I can’t get Gwen Stefani’s Rich Girl out of my head it’s awful help

Hi friends!


I’m back! I’m fresh! I’m in the flesh! Here I am! I’m home! At Skidmore!


It’s Saturday and I’ve been here since Thursday and life is so good.


On Wednesday, I went to the Mumford & Sons concert at the Forest Hills Tennis Stadium and it was AMAZING and I cried and laughed and nearly lost my voice. So that ended at 10pm and I was home in bed by 11pm. Which was nice.


Because on Thursday morning, we were on the road at 5am. Heading up here from Long Island, so that I could be in the theatre building for a pre-orientation workshop by 9:30am. I am committed to the theatre like Beyonce is committed to Jay-Z and Blue Ivy. UGH TO BE A PART OF THE KNOWLES FAMILY THAT’S MY DREAM GOSH.


So I get here in the early hours of the morning and I cried because I was so happy. We tossed my stuff into my room in Penfield and I took the fastest shower I’ve ever taken. Then I ran to the theatre and did work with the pre-orientation theatre first years on Polaroid Stories, the play I’m assistant directing this semester. Which was a lot of fun. Mwa.


And then I just relaxed and saw friends and unpacked my room and went to sleep really early.


On Friday, it was another day of hanging out and relaxing. And today, I was awoken very early by the commotion of moving in. And then I took a nap this afternoon. I am excited for this year. I think it’s going to be a good one.


Okay. Time to go eat some dinner.


Measure in Love,



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This is not a post.


This is not a reminder that I go back to Skidmore on Thursday.


This is not a reminder that I’m seeing Mumford and Sons on Wednesday.


This is not a reminder that on Tuesday my parents are taking me to my favorite restaurant for my last dinner with them before school.


This is not a reminder that tomorrow is my last shift at work for the summer.


This is not a reminder that today I have work at 2pm.


This is not a reminder that I ran half a marathon last night.



This is not a reminder.





(Was that dramatic enough for you?)


Measure in Love.

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Screaming with Antici…SAY IT…pation

Hi friends!


It’s time for another good ole late night with Kevin Berry update!


Not too much has happened. Same old same old. Work, sleep, workout, work, city, repeat, not necessarily in that order.


We went to Six Flags Great Adventure yesterday. Which was AMAZEBALLS. Fun fact: I’m a huge roller coaster addict, when I can get my fix. Otherwise, I’m in withdrawal, pretending that the simulated rides on Roller Coaster Tycoon are real. So we got there before the park opened, and waited. And then we were let through security and waited. And then we were finally let into the park. We got out Flash Pass GOLD, which was a mucho bueno investment. In this order, we rode(non-coasters in brackets): [Houdini’s Great Escape – more like I want to escape this ride ugh ugh ugh], Kingda Ka, Superman, Green Lantern, El Toro, Rolling Thunder, Bizarro – front row, [Skyride,]. Nitro, Batman, The Dark Knight, Skull Mountain, Superman, El Toro, Bizarro, [Skyride], [Congo River Rapids], Nitro – front row, [Sky Screamer]. And the best thing ever – Kingda Ka in the front row. Some people are like, the cronut is the best thing ever, others say Avicii is the best thing ever, and a lot of people say I’m the best thing ever. Nope. The best thing ever is riding Kingda Ka in the front row. Terrifying. I blacked out. And it was awesome. Not like blacked out in the sense of unconsciousness, but blacked out in the sense of like oh man this is adrenaline and I am on the tallest coaster in the world and the fastest in North America. A coaster in Abu Dhabi hits a higher top speed than Kingda Ka does. So it was the best thing ever.


Today I was at work and I just listened to showtunes all day while I organized the messy messy messy messy messy maintenance office. Haha blessed with employment.


Tonight I ran 11 miles. Summer Shape Up 2013 got really real tonight.


Tomorrow I have work. And then a workout in my attic.


Sunday I’m going to the Hamptons for the day, which will be nice. Gonna keep an eye out for some B-List Celebz. And some delicious pancakes at my favorite place in Montauk. Yes.


My dog is sleeping at such an awkward angle right now, I hope her spine is still intact. That would stink if she was hurt and wasn’t telling me. Oh gosh, thank goodness she moved.


And then Monday! Monday! Ugh, you better not have a case of the Mondays because my new play is having its world premiere reading! How exciting! Here’s the blurb I wrote:

“I want nothing more than to see the east coast of the United States. New York City. Specifically.” And so begins Kevin Berry’s latest, LISA THE LITTLE GIRL – AND SUDDENLY THEY ARE. Join brave eight-year-old Lisa as she walks from Muir County, California, all the way to the Big Apple, in hopes of finding her parents. This Mess has everything from shadow puppets to snowmen to drag queens who look suspiciously like Dame Judi Dench. It’s wacky. It’s out there. It’s bizarre. It’s been described by several homeless men as the new Romeo and Juliet. It’s not a play. It’s not a musical. LISA THE LITTLE GIRL— AND SUDDENLY THEY ARE is a Mess for the theatre: ambitious, unconventional, genre-bending, chaotic, and fearlessly theatrical.


Oh man am I excited for that.




I’m seeing Mumford and Sons on the 28th and then at the buttcrack of dawn, I’m getting up at 4:30am and driving to Skids to be there in time for a theatre pre-or event I’m involved in.


Ugh. Time for bed.




Measure in Love,



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I Tweeted At Amanda Bynes Hoping She’ll Call Me Ugly

Hi friends,


So when we last spoke, I was getting ready for work the next day. Nothing’s changed since then. At all. Every day, work and working out, reading, and sleeping. So exciting.


What is exciting, though, is the incoming first-years get their roomie assignments in less than a few weeks.

Working with them has been great, it really has, and I love my job.

But I’ve been wondering pretty much non-stop if, when I was incoming, I asked the same terrible questions.


Yes, you have to bring bath towels. It’s on the packing list.

No, there’s not shampoo and conditioner in the showers already. It’s on the packing list.

No, there’s no speaker system in your room. It’s on the packing list.

Yes, I am Beyonce.


I probably did ask stupid questions. And if I didn’t (I did), someone else is bound to have asked stupid questions.


I wonder if they’re scared.

I didn’t think I was until we were packing up the car the morning I left.

I was crying in my driveway and my dad hugged me.


I wonder if they’re going to be nice.

I wondered that about my classmates.

And they were.

I assume these kids will be too.


I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this stuff.


I think I’ve changed since I came to school –


Look at my first blog posts, I was always complaining about things I thought were wrong with Skidmore, but they weren’t actually wrong, they were just not the way I was used to doing things at home – sharing a bathroom, laundry machines, walking to class dressed like Macklemore in the Thrift Shop video.


And now, it’s all old hat. I’m used to it.


And I think I had a terrible attitude for most of my first year at school.


But now I don’t. I just go with the flow.


If college has taught me one thing outside of theatre and gender studies, it’s that:


Go with the flow.


If any incoming 2017ers, or 18ers, or 19ers, or 35ers are reading this, it’s coming, college is coming, and while it’s scary, you should learn to go with the flow.


I did, and I’m so much better for it.



Measure in Love,



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Hi friends!


It’s late Monday night, which means that it’s time to go back to work full-time tomorrow!


I had off today, thank Jeebus, because yesterday was a CRAZY long day of travel home from Wyoming. But before we talk about the trip home, how about we talk about the preceding week. Or rather, I talk about the preceding week, because I’m the one doing the talking here, see? This is a blog, not a two-way conversation, see? So if you wanna have a chat, let me know. But this is neither the time nor the place. Because I have to tell you about my favorite vacation ever. At least, one of my favorite vacations ever.


Last Saturday night: My last night at the show I was working on. Got home at 12:45. Packed until 1:45. Fell asleep until 4:25.


Sunday: Woke up. Went to the airport. Smoothly eased through security, where one of the TSA agents made my dreams come true and asked me if anyone had ever told me that I look like “that actor from Drive” – Ryan Gosling. I screamed. *screams.* We met some of our family members at the gate, and boarded an Airbus to Denver, Colorado. Once we landed there, we hung out for two hours, I gave in and bought the first book in the Game of Thrones series. Most importantly, however, I got coffee. But not just any coffee. Caribou Coffee. Anyone from out West should know what I’m talking about. If you don’t, Argo… And if you don’t know the ending of that phrase, go lay an egg. Anyway, it’s Caribou Coffee and it’s like Starbucks but special because I very rarely get to have this amazing coffee. It’s just so good. We board the next plane for our flight to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. We land. We eat. We go to the hotel, the Four Seasons. I might add here that my aunt paid for the entire trip because as she says “you can’t take it with you.” So if a lot of this trip seems extravagant, that’s because it was. It was incredible. My aunt said we would be “glamping” on this trip. Glamourous. Camping. Glamping. So we get to our rooms, which were penthouses in the Private Residences section of the hotel (8-12 people to a residence with room to spare) and our jaws hit the floor and off we go. TALK ABOUT GLAMOUR. Seriously insanity. We hang out for the rest of the day, and for dinner, we head to the residence my aunt (and others) was staying in (our group was split into 3 of the residences – 20 total) where she had made lasagna. We stood out on the balcony, overlooking the Grand Tetons. I thought, to take a bit of inspiration from Virginia Woolf, “There is no denying it. The Flynns were most certainly glamping.”

dat caribou coffee

dat caribou coffee

Monday: We wake up. Pull on our gear. And off on a 5-mile hike we go. All 20 of us. It was awesome. And beautiful. And mostly flat, but we saw an inspiring lake and I weep to think of it. After the hike, we rested for the afternoon, and after napping, got ready to go. We headed to a marina in Grand Teton National Park, and met the first major character of the trip: Firtht Mate Tony. He had a lisp. He was the first mate of the boat we were getting on to go to dinner on Elk Island, an island – obviously – in the middle of Jackson Lake. He was telling stories on the boat and we were all laughing. What a raconteur. His lisp sometimes made it hard to understand him, and when he said “President Ulysses S. Grant” my heart melted with pride that he was able to make it through byu enunciating so well. We ate dinner on the island, which was good. And then, upon hearing thunder and seeing lighting hit one of the mountains on the other side of the lake, the boat’s captain’s eyes lit up with anxiety and down-right fear and we ran to the boat and headed back to the marina through six-foot waves. True Life. After that, we went to Mary (my aunt)’s place and chilled out in the rain. Sleep.


Tuesday: The longest and most fulfilling day of my life: a 12-mile hike up Cascade Canyon from Jenny Lake docks. The ultimate goal was Lake Solitude, a lake atop a mountain with supposedly mind-blowing views. We never got there, because time was our enemy and there were also 4 feet of snow the night before on top of the mountain. So. We headed back down, and headed back to the hotel 9 hours after hiking through insane views, and seeing moose, deer, bear, antelope, eagle, waterfalls, rivers. Inspired. That night, it was raining by the hotel again, and we ran through the rain to the restaurant, The Mangy Moose, where my sister Bridget and I split an appetizer of hummus and veg, where I ate the spiciest buffalo wing I’ve ever tasted, and had a bison burger. Bodacious meal. I went straight to bed after that, and dreamt of the other world I had been earlier that day. The character of the day was the captain of the boat across Jenny Lake, whose name was Terry. He told us a lot of rough and violent stories of people falling off cliffs and boats sinking on Jenny Lake. Thanks, Terry, for the confidence boost. Sleep.

Hidden Falls on the hike. Jaw-dropping.

Hidden Falls on the hike. Jaw-dropping.

Wednesday: Another early morning, as we had a whitewater rafting trip. IT WAS AWESOME. NO WORDS TO DESCRIBE THE AWESOMENESS. AWESOME. It was very upper-body tiring. It was just awesome. I can’t even. I got to ride on the front of the raft, with my legs over the front and holding onto a rope, whole we went through one of the rapids. AWESOME. After that, I had a massage booked, and that was so relaxing. She found knots in my muscles where I didn’t even know I had muscles to tie. A very painful massage too, *laughs out loud,* despite how relaxing it was. I held the cries of pain in. I’m a big boy. I’m a brave boy. After the massage, I did some laundry in the residence, and got dressed. The hotel had been providing each residence with some form of edible treat (cheese, chocolate, etc) and alcohol paired with it and tonight’s treat, which became dinner, was nachos and margaritas. Bodacious. We brought everything over to Aunt Mary’s and ate there. After that, we went to the rodeo. I’m not the type of guy who would normally go to a rodeo ever, but after last Wednesday night, heck yes, I’d go back. It was fascinating. (The entire trip was – the real down-home Americana-style of life is entirely different from ours here in New York.) And fun, who knew the rodeo would be fun? I rode a mechanical bull! So did one of my aunts who’s afraid of everything! Despite the animal cruelty, I had a grand ol’ time at the Jackson Hole Rodeo! After the rodeo, Aunt Mary booked a side banquet hall in the hotel for karaoke. All I can say is that it was ridiculously hilarious. The character of the day was Brett, our bus driver on the rafting trip, who said “quite often” every five words and made a bunch of inadvertently HILARIOUS animal calls, while telling us stories of encounters he’d had with each animal. He also never looked at the road ahead of him, rather choosing to look at the mirror above him to tell us the stories. Sleep.

Keith (I think that was his name) the karaoke bartender. He was hilarious.

Keith (I think that was his name) the karaoke bartender. He was hilarious.

Thursday: We got on a bus at 7:30 in the morning with our guide (and character for the day), Art. He gave us a little talk but we went to sleep almost right away. We stopped to get coffee, which every single one of us, including 6-year-old Kasey, had. It was pretty good coffee. I put a lot of vanilla creamer in. We continued on our way to Yellowstone National Park, where we saw Ole Faithful, a heck of a lot of geysers, and were told some gruesome stories, by Art, who never stopped smiling, even when talking about dogs dying in the pools of boiling water around the park. We swam in floating rapids (rapids safe enough to swim in), saw a lot of buffalo, and slept a whole lot on the way home. Art, our guide, never finished high school,  sold his record collection for 25 bucks, moved to Wyoming from Minnesota, and found a job out there until he found steady work as a guide. He was a racist and also asked me “At school, now, do you have a group of friends who are into tattoos and body piercings?” Little did he know I have a full-body tattoo of a denim jumpsuit, so that even when I’m naked, I’m always wearing my denim jumpsuit. Sleep.

Dat rodeo.

Dat rodeo. And yes, I know this picture isn’t exactly where it should fit. The rodeo was Wednesday and this is after the Thursday section. Leave me alone, cyberbullies.

Friday: Aunt Diane, cousin Erin, and I meet in the lobby at 8:45am to go jump off a mountain. On the walk to the meeting point for the trip, we meet Aunt Mary, who had gone for a run. She asked us what we were doing, and we told her, and she obviously leapt for the opportunity. After a very long car ride up a very scary and very steep path, we reached the jumping point. Our guides gave us instructions and opened up the parachutes, and gave us our gear, and after “three long strides and a short jog” we were in flight off the side of the mountain and I was sitting in my little special chair, taking in views I’ll never forget. The pilot guide’s name was Chris, and he was great. He did some crazy maneuvers and spirals and dives. Craziness. After that, I went to the pool to get a bite to eat, and after that, we headed into Jackson Village for shopping. I bought so much this trip (Aunt Mary gave us each $500 to spend. She’s great. And insanely generous.) – a sweatshirt, 5 pairs of socks, a hat, 9 bumper stickers, 2 shot glasses. I don’t know if I’m supposed to have mentioned the last part there, but it’s true. Oh well. After shopping and ice cream (huckleberry and coffee flavors) – We went to a restaurant, Q Roadhouse, which my friend Gab told me to go to, and we ended up having our best meal in Wyoming there! I had an out-of-this-world burger with pepperjack and onion strings on top. It was unbelievably good. We got back to the hotel for a drink or two, and smores around the firepits they had on the hotel property. It was a perfect end to the day. Sleep.

My dad's reaction to a Lady Elk on the side of the road

My dad’s reaction to a Lady Elk on the side of the road

I actually jumped off a mountain why would I lie about that?

I actually jumped off a mountain why would I lie about that?

Saturday: Woke up early to go fishing with Uncles Tom and Ed and cousin Eddie, who’s 10. Caught two fish on my own, and Eddie also caught two. It was a nice morning, and we capped it off with a tour of the area (my uncle Tom worked out there for three years during college.) We got a delicious lunch of Wyoming pizza, who knew it was so good? And I tried a slice of Uncle Tom’s gluten-free pizza, which was surprisingly AWESOME. After lunch, we went to the hotel, I rested, and packed a bit, and got amazing coffee from a place near the hotel. Then dressed and got in the car to go to the Mural Room at Jackson Lodge, where Kerry, my stepmom, had arranged for a photographer to do a sort of photo shoot with us, some big family pictures and whatnot. His name was Morris Weintraub, and he was very grumpy. The only grumpy person we met on the trip. And we had an abysmally bad dinner at the Mural Room. Packing. Sleep.

this weird large cat on the side of the road

this weird large cat on the side of the road

Sunday: What a day. Woke up at 4:30 to be at the airport by 5:30 to be on the plane by 7. Success. Until the man who I was seated next to me sat down. Sniffling. Coughing. Yawning. Sitting indian-style in the seat, bumping into me. The flight attendant needed to relocated 3 people, because they didn’t want to sit in exit rows, so I immediately volunteered and was seated between two very talkative chaps. I immediately fell asleep, though. So that was nice. I was apparently snoring VERY loudly the entire flight. I woke up when we were in Chicago for our connection. Nice. We connected smoothly, and got on our flight to LaGuardia. I saw someone I recognize get on, followed by another someone I recognized. It took me the entire flight to make the connection. And as we landed, I said “OH MY GOD” out loud. Matt and Kim were on our flight. The band Matt and Kim, who I LOVE, were on our flight. Right there with us, in economy. On a flight of 30 people. So the weather diverted us to Syracuse, and none of us knew what was going on, but the long and short of it is that after a weirdly tense layover in Syracuse with the nasty flight attendants, we had a very bumpy (to say the least) ride to LaGuardia. Where, after claiming baggage, we were left standing next to Matt and Kim. And we got a picture. And I flipped quietly inside. So blessed.

MATT AND KIM and kevin and ryan and erin and bridget

MATT AND KIM and kevin and ryan and erin and bridget

And now I’m home. Today I watched Argo and rested and did laundry. Tomorrow is work, and it’s late, so I should sleep.

What a vista. What a perfect week.

What a vista. What a perfect week.

Measure in Love,



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