Random Channel Surfing

One of my absolute favourite things is reading reviews for other people's work. Reading how happy or inspired or awed someone feels after reading a particular work of literature fills me with happiness, inspiration and awe. There are so many naturally talented people out there and --- and oh, how I wish I were one of them.

It's the worst feeling in the world when you realize you're not as over someone as you thought you were. And maybe I'm not quite over him because he was my first, well... everything . Kiss... love... everything. It does suck, though, because he never felt an ounce of what I felt for him. I know he liked me, sure. I know he thought I was the--and I quote--"nicest girl in the world" and that I made him want to be a better person. But what he felt for me? Nowhere near what I felt for him. So, when I realized I was over him--that I'd somehow gotten him out of my system--I felt free and managed to feel actual butterflies swooping erratically in my belly for someone who's name wasn't... well, his . I started dreaming of someone new. That made me happy and I felt normal. What girl doesn't get over the first guy who breaks their heart, right? ( Masochists, clearly. But not normal girls. ) And I mean, it SUCKS that he--the second boy I loved--also bro...

She hasn't eaten a full meal in... god. She doesn't even know. All she does know is that her annoying friends keep leaving snacks in her locker and that her Health teacher has been eying her curiously all month long. So what , she screams in her head. I lost over ten pounds and all people can do is worry? This is going to help her feel better. This is going to boost her confidence better than anything else. This will guarantee her happiness. And as she measures out a quarter of milk and fists a few bits of cereal in her hand, she suddenly loses her appetite. It's not so much about how she looks in the morning, she tells herself, but the fact that she's learning discipline and sacrifice. If those around her don't realize that, then they're the ones with the problem.

It's as though the person --- be they a friend, acquaintance or complete stranger --- who's upset or distraught is connected to me emotionally. And it makes sense. I'm beyond sensitive and my heart always breaks whenever I identify with someone's sadness. I just wish that suffering wasn't necessary. But then I remember that if we only felt happiness and joy, we wouldn't really appreciate or understand how beautiful those emotions are. It's cliched, I know, but it's something I don't think about often. Anyway, it's bedtime. Early day again tomorrow ;)

OK. So I realized that I'm too old for the bar. When I went out with my friends for Dave's 26th birthday, I knew I wouldn't last long. And it's true. I got there at 9:00 and went home by 11:45 with a pounding headache. Granted, I've been working ridiculous hours at work (6:00 to 8:30 most days... kill me... please.), but at the same time, I was out with my friends . People who never fail to light my days with sunshine and make dull situations FUN. Anyway, our group played pool, drank beer (coffee for me) and the bar got progressively crowded. I started noticing that the dudes were cute, but young and was bemoaning the fact that I was tired when I should be up for some fun times at a bar, instead of craving the comfort of my bed. I mean I'm 25, not 50! So, after my ranting, I had to go pee, so I made my way to the bathroom, only to be stuck in a crowd of people on my way there. So, I'm pushing my way through, saying my "excuse mes" and "pardon ...