when I’m ready

I know I haven’t written anything about the final days of B*heme. It’s been 10 days — (well, it was when I first started writing this and now I don’t want to do the complicated math) — and I’m still processing it all. I will write about it, just not yet. I’m all over the map emotionally right now. I mean, honestly, I’m wiped. Whupped. Whipped. Whapped. Whopped. And whepped, really, most of all.

So let’s talk about something else.

How ’bout Ponce de Leon playing off the whole Fountain of Youth thing as a joke?

The whole thing was made up, a little prank. Seriously, like when I was searching, I was doing it all silly and cartoony, and I’d do a funny accent. I was just trying to liven things up for everyone. Like this one time I screamed that I had found it and everyone came over to see, and it just turned out to be a weird shaped rock with water coming out of it. And a few days after we all had drank from it and nothing happened, I was like, “Gotcha!”