Running.

I tell people I'm training for a marathon. I'm telling you that to excuse my ridiculous exercise habits that seem to result in nothing more than my being out of breath. I don't look any better than I ever have, I don't feel that much better, I still can't really run a mile without wanting to die or needing a lap to catch my breath, and you still can't see my collar bones.

When all else fails, diagnose yourself with a problematic thyroid gland - this way you can excuse the fact that you work out like a fucking maniac and see nothing.

Went to a party at a church-turned-home. I told the kid whose house it was that his roof might fall down if I walked inside. He told me the people who lived there before him were Jews. The roof didn't cave. Drove home from Mount Kisco high and slightly buzzed. Spoke to Mclean the whole way home but couldn't tell you what we talked about or how I made it to Heathers, or home for that matter.

My life is sounds like a bad teen soap opera.

Ridiculous.

Fabulous. I'll embrace the crash for a short period; you're not welcome after tonight.

I cannot handle these dreams or the lack of fiscal responsibility both of my parents display. Please find yourselves financial advisers so that I may be less stressed and in need of less anti-anxiety medication. Also, please note: this was your decision. I can pay for it myself. I just can't do it at the last minute.

On a side note: when discussing having children, it might be best to explain that you are just kidding. Otherwise, like me, you may get caught in a strange conversation about marriage that makes you a little uncomfortable. However, you might be like me and actually think getting married and raising a family is exactly what you want to do right now. I think the idea is brilliant.

I'm losing my mind. I need to quit one of my jobs or pick up one of my bad habits that I've just dropped.

Nineteen.

My birthday was yesterday. I am nineteen; such an uneventful and relatively meaningless age. The only thing it signifies to me is it being the last year of my teenage years, which means basically that next year I'll need to grow up and become an adult. I suppose the most adult thing I've done this month has been getting a credit card. Over-consumption of alcohol is hardly adult.

I spent the day beach-ing with Heather and Brian, and realized why I never go to the beach, let alone swim. I really can't swim. I'm really afraid of the water. It's quite pathetic. I just like to get wet and go lay in the sun and sleep. I had a really great nap, either way. Spent the rest of the night with Heather, Pete, and Ava. Just a really beautiful birthday filled with sun, relaxation, and really fabulous people. (I couldn't thank them enough.)

The situation with Alex is developing, though I do worry that it may turn around and bite me in the ass. I can't help but feel like the reason I'm starting to get really into it is because he's one of the first guys I've been intimate with since my ex. Which can mean one of two things: having been deprived of sex has turned my mind into thinking that any type of physical interaction automatically leads to falling in love, or that I actually do like him. I think it may be the latter. I find him completely charming, despite how cocky he is. The whole thing has me nervous.

On a side note, I'm currently watching some of my friends' lives turn to shit while mine is going rather smoothly... I'm anticipating the crash.

Ironic.

"Don't worry, passive aggression is hot."
"I thought it was cute when you said you don't chase."

Oh Alex, if you knew how ironic and applicable that statement is to my life, you may have withheld from saying that. Regardless, I find myself in an interesting predicament. I don't know if I'm willing to see him once a week, at a party, while the two of us are ridiculously trashed, when I can see Cory, probably more easily and consistently. Why don't I have this problem at school, and moreover, why do guys from my past always come back to me? I could always let my guard down and allow myself to enjoy the two of them for a while, but those sort of things never work out well. Then again, I am indefinitely counting my chickens before they hatch.

There are fireworks going off across the river. Happy Birthday and Happy Independence.

Mildly Entertaining.

The things I hear from guys when making out are sometimes too ridiculous to keep to myself.

"So this is what girls from Westchester are like."
"Wow, you are crazy."
"Hey, why'd you do that?"
"If you give me a wildly passionate kiss, I'll consider giving you your shirt back."
"I just want to dry hump."

I will never understand the urge to make comments about how girls from a specific location are. How silly.

i hate that you're living my dream.
or rather, that i can't afford to do so.

flashbacks.

Looking at Jesse reminds me of all the times at Oasis and my freshman/sophomore years in high school. He has changed so much, really just as a result of growing up. He isn't the scrawny soccer player anymore, now he's got these ridiculously solid arms. Surprises me every time. We go to Joelle's and I'm only planning to stay for a short period of time. I see her and immediately we start talking about the past, about Joel, Dan, Oasis as per usual, Bill, drinking, and basically gossiping about how everyone's lives had turned out. Being there 20 minutes, Dan calls. Then Joel calls.

When Joel shows up I find myself in a very unnerved state. The four of us have our history, and having just heard all the stories about Joel and Joelle's lives, I look at him and see sheer discomfort. What are you doing here, what are we doing here, and how is this okay? He wasn't ok. I knew she lied. Seeing him in that state, as drunk and frustrated, and completely uncomfortable being in that environment, brought back all the years of my being frustrated with whatever girlfriends he had, because they all made him this way. Insane women love him. I couldn't believe that these were people I spent a lot of time with.

I don't understand my relationship with guys like this. I hate their girlfriends for mistreating them, but I never would go as far as to say that it's because I want a relationship with them. It may just be the fact that I enjoy taking care of other people. Or maybe I'm just ridiculous.