Phone conversation:

"Oh? You movin' in on my man?" I joked to Jen.
"Oh yeah. I mean, I'm allowed, 'cause you stole my man before."
"What are you talking about? When did I do that?"
"Oh wait. That was me. Sorry. Me, not you. I mixed it up."


--

Read an old journal I hadn't seen in a long time. Saw this part about talking to John on the phone:

"Are you okay?"
"I'm not crying, I'm laughing. I'm laughing at how crazy this is. I'm coming home to mourn two birds with one stone."

Which made me think of:

At every occasion I'll be ready for a funeral
At every occasion once more is called a funeral

--

My life is full.
Well, for poetry's sake I guess I should channel Moz: "And now my heart is full."

There just has been so much laughing and late studio nights and playing when we should not be. Fraternité. Drinking beer in our pajamas (me in the onesie). Snuggling my feet into someone's lap. Can't explain it - just dumb shit. Constantly surrounded by different groups of people you really like. It takes me three years to really find my extended social circle. Shame that I'm leaving already.

I watched Mike, Brian, Ottoleo, and Pauly kick a soccer ball around - today was the last warm day of the year, and leaves were falling heavily, and they did their tricks on the cut in front of the Art building, and the sun was going down, and and and and. I felt like a lil momma, watching her beautiful scrappy art fucks play in the lawn.

If I hadn't been there and was reading this, I'd be rolling my eyes back into my brain.