Kristen: I bet this is universal. I was walking yesterday thinking about how amazing things are and thinking of Mark and how amazing it is that we found each other and then actually examining feelings that I have. There's actually this imaginary gap-ad like boy that I imagine to be a tortured artist who's really really deep and funny and adoring of me out there. I perceive this to be a minor minor thing that was brought on by my early exposure to melancholy music and Sassy Magazine. Not to be a total cliché, but the only part of me that isn't manifested totally in Mark is the dark, excessive, deep, and thematically questing me. I'm sure that I could explore this aspect with Mark (and maybe we will since we have plenty of time), but it might be more interesting if I keep it inside and see how it will shape me. This is the dark side of me that gets angry and arrogant. Every time I've ever socialized in Wilmington, I get drunk and/or high around people and just either entertain myself in the interior or laugh. This certainly isn't false behavior on my part, but it would be so nice to be able to feel like I'm in a room of like-minded people. Most of the time, I feel like I would be bored/boring if I just sat there and talked to people and let them lead the conversation. I've tried it once or twice (and especially at things like wrap parties where I don't know anyone), and it was dullsville. I'm not at all sure how to make such a connection, but I'm so tired (isn't it obvious) of putting on the same old outfit every time I'm at a social gathering. And it isn't as if I HATE who I am or think I suck. I just want to grow. And grow socially. I don't want to be the only one of my species at the zoo anymore. This may sound arrogant, but I feel like I had a 30-day trial membership into a girl group and now it's up. I enjoyed my time and thought it quite exotic, but once again, I was repelled at being odd and quirky. It gets old to be always refreshing at first and then weird and moody. Blah blah blar, but I just wish other people would lift their masks as well. I'm just glad that I heard that Tori Amos song early and OH how I loved it. … It went a little something like this and hit me in my early, formative 20s: "hey now take a deep breath babe… maybe there's pieces of me you've never seen." I want to see more pieces.