My day was filled with joy, save for the inevitable daily irritation that manifests in some form or other. Today, it came in the form of a visit from some relatives, but afterwards I felt so guilty about my irritation that I have pledged to call and apologise tomorrow.

Anyhow, Mass was good. I felt jubilant throughout. Do not be afraid, God is with you. I feel as if there is nothing I cannot overcome with Him by my side. Walk with me. Even if I'm down on my knees and crawling, He'll be there. I'll never have to miss Him.

Post-dinner drinking was decadent, as one of the hedonistic party-goers puts it. These holidays, I really have spent an incredible amount of time and money checking out live bands. So there's my answer to the insurmountable question: what have you been up to?

I've been revelling. Like mad. There's been drinking, gossipping, stupid finger guessing games where I let myself be coerced from pretending to gargle Hoegaarden to actually chugging it, and too much screaming. There's been social after-midnight mass-bingeing also known as supper where people sit around and take the piss out of each other. More screaming.

Boy, will I miss this. It's gonna be different. But for what it has been for me, I will cherish it so much that if it were tangible I'd smother it with excessive doses of sentimental schmuck.

I think of all the great people in my life and sometimes if I let myself get carried away I could pulverize my sanity with my desire to stay. But if this needs to be put into perspective, then the truth is that I'm not leaving any of this behind. Because I'm taking it all with me. We'll be forever young.

posted by beautiful at 12:54 pm

My one big prayer was answered. I was not charged for their services--all six hours of it. And, I managed to persuade the technician to give me a free LAN cable. Cheap thrills, but I'll take them where I can. Everyone asks if everything's okay now, but I honestly don't know if this is the end to all the frustration. One can only hope.

It struck me today at lunch that my mother is getting old. She's not the same person as when I was one or two or four, physically, mentally or emotionally. I'm not one or two or four anymore. I wonder how we both grew in our own ways, to the point where sometimes we clash head-on.

Love languages.

I'm a lot like her, but I don't think she knows it. I know it because when we fight, I feel like I'm fighting my own inner demon. It comes down to love languages. Delicate, polysemic, with a gazillion dimensions and only one possible interpretation. Your own.

Give it up.

No time like the present.

posted by beautiful at 10:22 am