this is why

...julia might always just be, in my own perception, a lover. it's just who she is. i dunno. one example.

i did laundry yesterday. that was a complicated procedure, and im not sarcastic. met a pretty boy who helped me out with my detergent problems. and well aparently i put in too much. and he was well, pretty. just soft looking. and i asked him for a peice of paper from his yellow papered notebook and he said "umm" and freaked out, or maybe got nervous and then said "umm, this is all wet, let me get another one" and he was writing on the one that was wet. i had to hold myself back from kissing him right there and then.i said "no dont worry about it, that one is fine." and then my friend walked by and asked "julia why are you doing laundry down here" and i said "more people to watch" and he heard me i think. and looked at me, and i think he might have gotten weary or i dont know. im just not making sense right now. and im writing this letter to myself thats actually to you, because im too busy to write to myself. or maybe not too busy, just out of it. im on a break right now you see. from all this crap that was me this past year. im so fuckin happy, or maybe just genuinely giddy. and im far away from all those things that used to me. and i'll be getting back soon, but i just wanted you to know that i was actually here. and i do all this normal stuff, thats not normal at all, but its not the typical deprssed shit that i used to do. or mybe i didnt i dont know.

there were a few slaps in the face towards the end of the letter though. something about a mutual friend she nearly missed and then realised "but he's not in this part of the movie." ouch.

i sigh way too much.