BLESSED ARE THE YOUNG — But *Forever* Blessed Are The Young At Heart ;0)

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!