Well well, Rachel. Here you are, not writing, but boy are you living. Life is still pretty much the same; working the good old job, being a part of some insanely good theatre, making friends. The only thing that's changed is I am officially happier than all get out. (I agree, interesting choice of words, but it's the first thing that came to mind so I'm going with it.) So, who's causing this insane happiness? This luminescent quality of life? This incessant fall into love?