Sunday, April 20, 2008


I thought long and hard about what I was going to write in this blog. Unfortunately, I then put on the Spice Girls and now all I can do is groove. It's a disaster.

I wanted to spend this blog cursing my youth. At 18, I was so excited to be an adult, but I haven't felt younger. Even when I was in high school, I felt older than this. In high school I felt mature. This, I suppose is not an issue of maturity. I know that I am very mature. However, my skin does not entirely reflect this. I do not have calluses associated with age. I am soft and pink and eager. I am not jaded. If would be outrageous, to me, for me to tell you that I am jaded. I know there are amazing things that I haven't seen, and I want to see them!

Would I be a more believable adult if I feigned cynicism?

I think not. I think I can be an adult and feel that magic that comes from magical things, like a cat's warm belly, and what it feels like to have a crush. My kitten is magical.

One of the best compliments I have ever gotten was from Michael, when he said I was "a peach without a pit, sweet as can be and soft all the way through." I think soft is very accurate. I melt at, typically, even the word kitten, or at the sight of a certain person. That person has been several different people. Initially I didn't like that. I really enjoyed the one and only idea. I hope maybe there is a one and only. That would be fine indeed.

That's all I have to say about that.

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