oh brooklyn, brooklyn, take me in

Today was our two exams of the semester. I talked to my dad about it earlier tonight, complaining about my memory and its lackluster performance. His response, interesting English and all: "Who has a better memory than you? Who? Tell me. Do I know them? That's just human limitations. You probably have to repeat things two or three times before it's embredded in your memory."

I wonder where this sort of support was when I was in middle school and got a low A (I was deathly afraid of telling my parents I got a B). But I'll take it. The picture above is one I took of my dad when he came to visit my apartment last fall.