As I cleaned my room today in preparation for the fiesta tomorrow, I ran across my old journal. I'm amazed at how delusional I was at 16. And back then I thought I knew everything, just as I think I know everything now. I really should listen to my parents more.
At least at 21 I wasn't too bad. Sample entry: "Picked up an IKEA catalogue at Mary Beth's. Better living through the purchase of many mass-produced comsumerite shrines made to give your home that yoga-esque simple look - that look that says you don't actually make messes; you just sip tea and read Gibran on your white sofa (with accent color shag pillows) all day."
I am enjoying some celebratory Brie right now.
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