Max and I took a walk last Sunday to battle melancholy and talk about our exciting weekend adventures.
This is Vienna from above. You can actually see the street I live in.
Max took a picture of me taking the picture.
I wish I had his camera. As you can see, mine is not quite up to his standards.
His weekend was more dramatic than mine, but I got to see a pretty good play. I also found out that I'm "a great woman" because of my extensive Simpsons-knowledge. Should this make me feel pleased or doubtful?