I just drank a big glass of wine, so this post is going to be a testament to my commitment to this diary. There’s a seductive allure to turn up my music and float around in my room, spinning, because sometimes I like to do that. I like the dizzying sensation. Instead, I’ve got my glass of water and I’m tapping out these very words to you, my dear friend.
- I know this city inside and out. I know dirty secrets. I’ve seen lax security. I know who knows whom. I know where to find the best cinnamon twist. I am your go-to girl for obscure information.
- I can mingle with every kind of crowd. I’ve been to clubs you see on Sex and the City. I’ve worked the room dressed as a pirate. I can answer the phone in a multitude of accents. I’ve hob knobbed with Jay-Z, and sometimes on Saturdays I like to listen to Weird Al.
- I am well adjusted and flexible. I cry while watching TV shows. I can hold a grudge for months/weeks/days/hours/minutes/seconds. I unflinchingly want to believe everyone is essentially good-natured. I’m a cynic, and sometimes, dark clouds follow me.
- I like the color pink, but I think boys would like it too if we didn’t teach them it’s just for girls. I don’t like creepy, crawly things; I’m ok with that.
- I like the repeat button in iTunes, and the thirty-second skip button on Tivo. I like to push yours, but I don’t like mine pushed back.
- I wake up early, but I’m still late to work. It’s the only thing I do with any regularity besides writing.
- I don’t feel like I have anything important to say today, but that’s just an excuse. It’s pretty sorry, and so am I. Thanks for reading anyway.