I just realized that I forgot my underwear at my friends house. I was babysitting, and my underwear was digging into my ass cheeks, so Lauren convinced me to take it off. I put it in the stroller, and it's really skimpy underwear, which is unusual for me. I would probably be embarrassed if I wasn't so tired. I think my brain is trying to make me embarrassed, but oh well. I just hope it isn't gross. MAN! What a fool I am. So I bought a Hardy Boys book. I saw it at Grounds, and thought, "I simply MUST have that." It's called The Secret of the Old Mill. How great is that? I'm feeling a bit better. I have resolved to simply not think about myself at all, because there's nothing I can do to change anything, as far as looks are concerned. Yeah, I suppose I could wear make-up or nice clothes and look all priss-prass, but that's just not my style, and I wouldn't be comfortable at all. I think I know who I'm supposed to marry. Which is cool, and foolish and weird because now I don't want to date anyone because I feel so "set aside." I'm sure the worldly influences in my mind will sooner or later void me of that singularity notion. Oh well. I don't plan on tying the proverbial "knot" anytime soon though. And by no time soon I mean not for years. I had this great conversation tonight with a guy I know after we watched The Never-Ending Story. We just chatted about how it's infuriating that people forget their dreams. We've learned to accept less. It was a very emotional talk, and meant a lot to me. Lately it's been hard trying to figure out "what I'm supposed to do." It really hasn't been hard, but I've had many people nagging me about figuring my life out A-sap, which I have no desire to do. I don't exactly know what career I might pursue. I'd like to somehow incorporate my writing abilities with my film ideas or photographs. I need to make things. Not be an art director or teacher. I don't know. It's difficult organizing my thoughts in reference to that whole topic of "life career" and what not. I just know what I don't want to do, and this will in turn help me determine what I DO want to do. And that's that. Just one last thought: Whenever I'm attracted to someone, like most people I start thinking about what our relationship would be like if we had one. You know, quick photographic images of the future. But then I just think about them at Thanksgiving dinner with my family and me. Every time. It's weird. I was writing yesterday about how I hope to marry a vegetarian, and we'll have to make a special meal for whoever that might be, and for me too, considering I'm a vegetarian as of this year. And I hope to marry a very peculiar person, so that my uncle John would say, "Megan's husband is very peculiar..." That's a memory I want to have. My hypothesis as to why I'm thinking this way has to do with my maternal clock. It's ticking and agitating the hell out of me. I just don't want to feel like the only person who thinks the way I do anymore. Because I know there are people out there who would laugh at the things that make me laugh. Crazy stuff, that no one else sees. It's strange living a life like this when no one else gets it. Lauren gets it. But I'm straight and so is she, and even if we were lesbians we would probably end up hating each other if we dated. A lot. The moral of the story is, I want someone to see what I see, and I want to see what they see.

"...To see like you're eyes do..."