Reflection from December 14th, 2002 @ Age 21
RE: THE BEAUTY OF NAIVETY LOOKING-FORWARD — WITH NOTES OF BITTERSWEET MELANCHOLY FROM THE PAST.
I am not so sure I am in love with Crosby anymore. In fact, I definitely do not think I am. But I’m still not sure what the hell being —in love— means anyway.
I’m sick of being at school. I want winter break, work, money, parents, family, Christmas. Not Crosby. Not New Year’s with Crosby. Not fucking Beirut tables and Natty Light and shots and fucking goddamn ping pong balls. I want to be in law school—with flat screen monitor laptop, bed, apartment, job, fax/scan/copier printer, real friends and happy hours! I want study groups and Starbucks café mochas and nice restaurants and lavish holiday parties for which I can dress up and take a hot sexy date–motherfucking smart as a whip and romantic as all get out! I want fresh markets and vegetables and flowers on my kitchen table and windowsill. I want the fucking sun in my eyes and warming my skin. I want to be in shape. I want to be a teeny tiny fighting machine. I want to be a survivor. I want to find out where I fit in this world—figure out what I can do. I want horses and green grass for acres and acres. Ugh!! It’s gonna be beautiful!