Sunday night, I took Skyler to Medieval Times for his birthday. Scott and Sarah came with, and afterwards, we went to TGI Friday's for a drink.

The moment I walked in the door, I just felt odd. Uncomfortable. Like I wanted to leave.

They had a good time-- chatting, joking. As for me, I developed a terrible stress headache and kept imagining I smelled Armani Black Code. We left early, upon my request, because I just couldn't let my guard down in that place. My skin was tingling, I was so on edge.

Mike called last night. We chatted for a few minutes about this and that-- small talk. He asked how I was doing, and we talked about our weekends. I mentioned that I'd gone to Friday's on Sunday evening.

"Oh, what time?" he asked.

"About 7:30," I replied. "We stayed for an hour or so."

And then he said he'd been there too, but he left at about 7. He then came back around 9. We missed each other not once, but twice.

That explains why I was so uncomfortable. I could sense him, even if I couldn't see him. I could still feel him there.

This morning, I saw what my journal looks like when I'm not logged in. I must sound so incredibly shallow. All of the important stuff has been friends-locked, and what's left is a vapid retail-aganza. Well. I guess there's something to be said for surface appearances.

I wanted to set some goals set for the next few months. The theme of this year has been constant change-- so much so that I've had a difficult time getting my bearings. It feels like the earth has been rocking beneath my feet. I'm hoping that this upcoming move will bring a sense of closure. Of starting over. Of learning to breathe again.

( Ten goals for the next six months.Collapse )


I found out that it was actually Joaquin Phoenix & Reese Witherspoon singing in Walk The Line. I knew that it wasn't June Carter Cash's voice during the movie, but the male vocals were so well done that sometimes, I was certain that we were hearing the Man In Black. I am so incredibly impressed with that movie. Also? One of these days, I'm gonna get me a man that can sing. 'Cuz whoa with the melting and the wobbly knees.

Work, work, work. I'm ready to move on. Someone needs to explain to me why it is that the only people who ever curse me out over the phone have bizarre accents. I don't mean 'bizarre' as in 'foreign.' I mean bizarre as in 'Swedish Chef.' Borga borga borga.