My Shi just got engaged to the love of her life, and I couldn’t be happier for her.
She gave me these two rose quartz crystals a few months ago, because “love comes in pairs,” she said. I’ve never been a believer of crystals, but I did buy this cute ass dish for them (I still believe in good home decor, after all). I keep them on my bar cart in the feng shui-recommended “love corner” of my apartment. The booze around it will likely be of more assistance to my love life than the art of feng shui or crystals, but I appreciate Shi’s effort! Ha.
Not much has changed since Chel’s diary entry from my 8th birthday—I’m still fun at sleepovers, and we’re all still a little afraid of our cousin, May! Ha.
I love that she still has all of her old diaries. I used to send people handwritten letters, but I didn’t start documenting my life until I started this blog in my early twenties. I never expected to keep it going for this long, but here we are 15 years later! For the three of you who have stayed tuned to this blog, thanks for sticking it out with me after all these years. Here’s to the next 15!
At lunch today, our waiter told me he really liked my glasses when we first sat down, and later brought me some hot water, lemon and honey because he said he heard me sniffling. Deane said he wanted my dick, but I’m pretty sure he just wanted the tip ;)
I suppose in the end it’s almost too easy to look back and say what you should have done, how you might have changed things. What’s harder—what’s much, much harder—is to accept what you actually did do.
Every morning, I wake up and forget just for a second that it happened. But once my eyes open, it buries me like a landslide of sharp, sad rocks. Once my eyes open, I’m heavy, like there’s too much gravity on my heart.
She was the third beer. Not the first one, which the throat receives with almost tearful gratitude; nor the second, that confirms and extends the pleasure of the first. But the third, the one you drink because it’s there, because it can’t hurt, and because what difference does it make?
Why’s everyone still singing about California?
Haven’t we heard enough about the Golden State?
I guess if you like sandy beaches and blue ocean water
There’s something about it, to which I cannot relate
You’ll be sick or feeling troubled or deeply in love or quietly uncertain or even content for the first time in your life. It won’t matter. Out of the blue, beyond any cause you can trace, you’ll suddenly realize things are not how you perceived them to be at all. For some reason, you will no longer be the person you believed you once were. You’ll detect slow and subtle shifts going on all around you, more importantly shifts in you. Worse, you’ll realize it’s always been shifting, like a shimmer of sorts, a vast shimmer, only dark like a room. But you won’t understand why or how.
It took me so long to do so many important things. It’s hard to accept that I spent so many years being less happy than I could’ve been. Jim was five feet from my desk and it took me four years to get to him. It’d be great if people saw this documentary and learned from my mistakes. Not that I’m a tragic person, I’m really happy now. But it would just make my heart soar if someone out there saw this and she said to herself, ‘Be strong. Trust yourself. Love yourself. Conquer your fears. Just go after what you want and act fast! Because life just isn’t that long!’
I do try. I’m the one that never calls too often and acts like it’s no sweat. I’m the one that stays busy, a blip here and then there. You won’t find me anywhere too long beyond what is welcome. Right?
Truth is that I am uncool. Goofy when it’s harmless. Frightening when I lose footing. I’m terrified of being seen with my love hanging out.
I know. I’m fooling no one but myself. Everybody knows. Now. I got caught loving, longing, dancing well after the music stopped.