life has been busy but confusing. new years eve was a good time that i got to spend with my family and a bunch of good friends. andrew, tony, tim k. and his adorable italian girlfriend picked me up and we went to dana's party. hung with dana, angie, bob, mailman, etc. then me and andrew's crew went over to my family's house where beth and tim met us. we played pool and sang along to oldies and tony declared, "I WILL NEVER BE VOLUPTOUS!" i also thought i heard tim k. call beth "pegleg" when really he was talking to the dog, bailey, so now she has a new nickname. my mom, who throws the best parties ever, had all this good food and i just had a wonderful time. at midnite, we all took our drinks outside to have a toast while we blasted "come and get your love" by redbone from the cd player in andrew's car. we danced and yelled and caused a scene. i loved it.

i don't do that whole new year's resolutions bullshit, but if i did i know that one of mine would be to stop talking about boys in here. i think it jinxes me, or else i just end up looking like a fool when my expectations and reality end up in a head-on collision. needless to say, i have been single for the last 2 years or so...and although that almost changed recently, i ducked out of that situation and i feel like a total jerk for it but i know i just couldn't do it. i still feel incomplete and it wouldn't be fair to put someone else through that when i am still searching for a piece of me that is missing. will i ever be normal again? i hope i am just being dramatic. i hope i don't have to feel like there is this hole in my chest forever.

recently i had this conversation with a few of my closest friends about how i need to let go of things and forget the past. am i really weird for feeling like that is impossible because i think of every situation like a chapter in a book? i feel like everything is a part of the story and i can't seem to throw away the pieces that make up the book. why am i the way i am about memories? does it have any connection with the part of me that identifies as a writer? why am i just sitting here saving it all up until it overflows and what am i waiting for to get me to just let it all out? i guess i'm trying to figure myself out, because it's really hard to feel like you have no purpose.

i have no idea what i'm even talking about. i sounded a lot like napoleon dynamite there.

xoxo