life.

it happens.

how can it be so delightful, lebendig, so joyful and filled with emotion? and at the same time be cold, weary, unsure, and stagnant?

I guess that explains the love-hate relationship.

I'm in a crying mood, and I also want to laugh until my sutures over my wisdom teeth sockets burst. (well, maybe almost to that point.) I feel like doing things I never feel like doing... cleaning the kitchen, doing my laundry. I want a hug.

I was going to edit this post for purposes of coherence. I don't think that'll be necessary. why should I edit myself?

I care, but mostly I don't. Not anymore.

my hair feels soft and pretty today. Ella says there is this magnificent shampoo that would bring out the red tones in my hair, but would come out with the next wash. She was going to give it to me before I left her house, but we forgot.

where can I get good bubble tea in Olympia? and on that note, what is there to DO in Olympia?

I want to drive. Just get in the car and drive. See how far I can get before I force something to happen - I run out of gas, or I crash, or I get to Vegas, or Canada, or Portland.

maybe it's more than that. I want to be away. but I want to be home. striving for something new - now there's a concept.

you know this is for you, right?

this has GOT to be an effect of the vicodin. there really is no other possible explanation. that, or I'm growing. I don't think I like it. there are better things.

I want to write more. but there is nothing coherent = nothing useful, nothing worth saying. Right? so should I read instead?

a Very boring individual, I am. cookie cutter. a Happy person isn't always the most interesting person, in fact that's seldom the case. MAybe if I read more/ write more/ do more/ explore more/ adventure more/ live more/ listen more/

it would make me a more interesting girl