01.14.05 - 1:49 p.m.

Bagels, bagels, bagels. In a million ways my family is so un-Jewish. But my dad was raised in ny and so we are cramming bagels and lox down our throats like crazy the days after the funeral. It just makes me feel fat.

I am very depressed. Old age is looking so sucky to me right now. We're all making plans for my grandma. It would be so much easier if we all lived together. I feel all this pressure to move back home, but I love the Big City I live in soooo much. All of my friends and my life are there. Giant transitions are so hard, too. Living back at home would feel so suffocating but it would make my family so happy. Torn.

I'm trying to make myself feel better by drinking tea and trying to work out. It's amazing what those endorphins can do. I also got an email from friendster (Can we talk about how much fun friendster is? to find people and read about them and write to random people. I dated a boy I met on friendster and although it went a bit sour in the romance dept. it really dispelled any prejudices I had about meeting people on-line and enjoying on-line things. Not being a computer person it's a big change for me. More places to find entertainment..)from a boy that I barely remembered going to college with. I remember him as cute and quiet and science-y and friends with my friends.

And I just censored myself. I wrote all of this fantasy stuff and erased it because I don't know who will read this. I already erased stuff I wrote about a boss, lest the boss ever get a hold of this. There are lots of juicy things I have no problem revealing to strangers but people I know or half-know can be dangerous. But that's kind of exciting too. That's part of the diary exposure thrill part. So I'll go ahead and give myself a little anxiety/adrenaline head rush by writing that the boy who contacted me looks muy hot in his photos and I certainly don't remember him as muscley. I do remember him as cute science geek. But muscley science geek? mmmmmmmm. Better to imagine that than some badly tatooed hairless filipino that never called me back. Fo'sure. See, what if he read that? Either of them? The rush is on as soon as I press send.

And this is how I'm getting my kicks in grandma post death land. Ugh.
GUACATELA.
There has got to be a comic in all of this somewhere. Pick up the pen, Paleta. Pick up the pen.

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