I am incomprehensibly busy. On Tuesdays, I am prepared to let a singularly delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich make my day. If I get to eat both lunch anddinner, I know things are really going my way. I spent all that day making sure my hair looked okay, and when I thought it was for no avail I almost let it bring me down � luckily enough for me, Clay Aiken came up next on my ipod�s shuffle, and there was nothing to do but laugh and accept the ridiculous nature of being me.
This ipod throws me for a loop. I walk around grounds and I wonder if other people can tell if I�m listening to Andrew W.K. or David Bowie. I wonder if other people know I�m smiling because �N Sync just came up.
In a recent conversation with someone I don�t know very well, he said �Wow, you�re really into mid nineties pop.� I tried to cover, to save: �Well, yes�but�I mean�I like other music too.�
This was not a lie. This was not just me trying not to come across as a hopelessly irredeemable loser. But maybe his sentiment hit pretty close to home � I�m really into nineties pop, really really. Should that say less about my character than I sometimes feel it does?
I�m always surprised by how little that�s actually important gets written about in this diary � but, at the same time, how much that�s important gets written by not being written.
I was talking to Carly the other night � I think I may have piled �sort of new-ish Meg� on her a little fast. The truth is, I don�t think I�m one of those people who goes away and changes � I�m one of those people go goes away and finds new ways of expressing the self that was in there all along. I don�t feel like I�m changing, I�m just experimenting with displaying who I am. I�m figuring out what makes me feel bad in the morning � and why.
I think it's funny that I know two songs about sereal killers. I know two different songs about the SAME sereal killer, in fact.
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