So.

I put in my notice. In the next two months I will somehow curate two shows, rent out my house, sell all of my belongs and get on a plane to Paris. Then NYC. Then NYU. I'm not really sure what is going to happen but come hell or high water, a battered and bruised Pammy will wash up on the shores of JFK's landing strip.

Additionally, things I learned this week: I have no will power and engage in destructive behaviors. Also, H&M is very dangerous to my mastercard. Also, Atlanta is fun and Orlando can suck it. It's cool though. That one guy outside of Panera told me to stay sweet, and that kind of made my day. Any residual aspirations for a rock star life are quashed and I will now commence my grown up life. Well, in theory.

Thanks for the memories.

xoxo