i am exhausted, but i am up. after having kimchi chigae with my mom in her kitchen at 11pm, I came upstairs to my sister's old room, where her pencil sketches of my parents in their pajamas, and her Ranma cartoon stickers, and the globe I bought for her a decade ago, are all sitting there, like she's still a fourteen-year old.

I took the LIRR home after my digital photo class. My phone was dead, so I used the phone belonging to the girl sitting next to me. Her name was Terry, and she was a cherubic twenty-five year old. She was so nice about letting me use her cherry colored LG Chocolate that I started a conversation with her. She used to be a legal recruiter and now dreams of being a wedding planner. I told her that twenty-five is so young, because at twenty-five, I couldn't have said where I'd be at thirty. But now that I'm thirty, I'm pretty sure where I'll be at thirty-five. That's aging for your. Less surprise.

For instance, the next time someone I love is killed in a tragic and unexpected way, I'll be less floored, and thus less fucked up.

On an unrelated note, Mauro took pictures of my VJ last week. He wanted to show me how it was lopsided. Truly I was astounded when I saw how one side was distinctly floppier than the other. I laughed and then forgot about it. This evening, while downloading images from my one memory card in class, the teaching assistant came to my computer just as seven color shots of my VJ froze on the screen. I said, "Whoops." She didn't say anything.

Now, four hours later, I'm almost amused.