Ease, Lover

-- Your handshake. It's strong.

-- Is he your date? Are you guys on a date? I just wanna know-- is he your boyfriend?

-- I wish I could text the whole world.

When does the exception become a rule? I'm trying, actually, to be good. And I think it's working. My confidence is ununderminable some days.

(This is so funny, guys. As I type this, that my confidence is impossible to undermine, someone sends me a text message to say something nasty. I have to decide right this second whether or not I'm going to Let This Ruin My Day. Guess what I'm deciding?)

This is not such a simple matter, kids. I'm not, like, getting what I want all the time without having to work for it, and then looking a gift horse in the mouth and complaining about it. That's funny, but it is also not the truth. I really wonder about people who begrudge others their happiness. This is telling.

Whatever. Fuck this. It's Sunday and I'm feeling good, and hungover. And I hate to be a bitch about it, but it just serves to emphasize the distance I'm crossing: I'm going to eat some melon and drink some coffee and go on a date.

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