Returning.

Coming back could have been a little bit more seamless, a little less stressful, and a little more exhilarating. My apartment is gorgeous. I am in love with it and am in love with the potential memories I can make here. I've been trying to teach myself how to cook. We'll see how well that goes. At least I can bake brownies. 

I find myself in an uncomfortable place with my group of friends. Some of them can be such children and behave just like jealous, catty siblings. I know that Kyle and I became closer last semester, though I wouldn't say we are closer than he is with anyone else, I know that I am closest with him out of all of my friends. Someone made a comment that suggested he and I would end up together by the end of the year. Naturally, I found it to be one of those immature comments that girls make because they find my relationships with men are never void of sexual tension. Regardless, this is the issue with the boy-girl best friend dynamic. Someone always falls in love. Someone always gets attached. So if it's not Kyle, maybe it will be me.

I'm feeling inspired. I think I'll start writing again. As Ava said it best, this is going to be my year. I don't know what she meant entirely, but I think things are going to come full circle. I just have to learn to stop reading into things. 

Alex accused me of being too "emotionally involved." I don't think guys understand that most women just want a clear end to things. As a result, I called him incessantly waiting for him to tell me it was over. He never said it. He just called me rude. I love stubborn men.

Growing Up.

Never in my life did I imagine that I would get along with my mother, let alone develop a stronger relationship with her. Life is funny like that. I realized that living away from my family gave me a greater understanding of them - meaning that I understand that some things will remain the same, not that I understand why things are that way. A year ago I was certain that my mother and I would be estranged one day, that I would send Christmas cards and Chanci gifts every year and stop speaking with her and her side of the family. This might be true about her family. I can't say it will be true for her.

I think this summer I've gained a fair amount of patience, not only with my family, but with most aspects of life. Working with TJ has been a truly wonderful experience. As cheesy as it sounds, he is such a special little boy, so bright and full of energy that he's almost been inspiring to me. When I told his mother when I was leaving , I felt my heart sink. He and I have such a strong connection that I can't imagine what it will be like saying goodbye. It's funny - every child reacts differently to my leaving. Isabella was excited to see me again, but she wasn't angry that I left her. Kenny and Vanessa asked me where I was going and why; Kenny still always wants me to stay. I hope that TJ handles it well, because I know I'll be hurt. I hated leaving Isabella, leaving TJ, who I spend so much one on one time with, is going to be so painful.

Everyone always calls me mom, or mama, or something. For a long time I thought I'd never want children. I thought having kids would mean ruining my life and that it would be so much easier to just let my sister have kids and I'd be the wonderful aunt who spoiled them. If I was given the option to drop out of college and start having children now, and especially if the offer was good enough, I don't know that I'd be able to refuse. I was tearing when I told my father that I didn't want to leave the kids; he started tearing because he could only tell me that one day I'd be a really great mom. I didn't think my dad would ever say something like that to me so early, but I suppose it was the reassurance I really needed; I needed to be reminded that I am separate from my parents and that their errors will only give me greater success.

I still struggle in making serious decisions, and am still uncertain of where I am supposed to be in my life. I was talking with my aunt and asked her whether there were any memories from my childhood that I should actually remember. Everything, and I mean everything, is so blurred that I can't help but feel like I blocked it from memory. She told me there are certain things she hopes I'll remember one day, because they have clearly impacted me so strongly, in terms of my judgement and overall character, but that there are others I can do without. Sometimes I question how many of these demons Brittany remembers and fights on a daily basis. The number must be higher than mine. She's a lot less stable than I am, regardless of what she says.

I think these past few months have solidified my relationship with Ava and Valerie. Their friendships are so incredibly special to me, and I've never felt this degree of closeness with either of them. It's so comforting to know that I can come home to them, and even miss them. When you leave, you learn quickly who your friends are.

I move back to New York in just over two weeks. I feel myself growing up and it scares the life out of me. I have a credit card. In my name. I don't get it. Where does the time go?

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.