who

It’s during arguments with him that I can see how selfish, self-absorbed, petty, immature and spiteful I can be and I hate it. I think the amount of self-hate I feel in those moments only worsens things.

I’d love to be the totally chill girl with the tomboy attitude, who lets things go easily, maintains a cool temper and shrugs things off. But I’m not, and I never will be. I will over-analyze every last detail to the death, and I do this is because I need to know the truth for myself and believe it before I can begin to move on at all.

Most of all, I need to believe that you love me as much as I love you, that you think about holding my waist as often as I miss nuzzling your cheek, that you anticipate time with me as much as I daydream about our future, that you would not know what to do if you ever lost me.

aging taste

I’m getting old! This year, I acquired a taste for taupe, black coffee (ok, a bit diluted, but still), leopard print (que horreur!), statement jewelry (what I used to think only old grandmas or tai tais wore), vintage finds (old grandmas, again), crocodile leather, tortoiseshell, and clutches (kind of went overboard here). Is this alarming or what?

If you asked me what I want for Christmas (it’s early, I know) I would tell you:
A condo and a 401K with a sweeeeet return. I SOUND LIKE A 35-Y.O.

I still don’t enjoy wine or other types of alcohol, though. Okay, maybe dessert wine. But even little kids wouldn’t hesitate gulping that stuff down..