9:34 PM

My mother likes to invent things that are wrong with me, and then try to convince me to go see a doctor about them. Six months ago, she told me I had a slight lisp, had had it since I was a child, and she'd never told me because she didn't want to upset me. I know I don't have a lisp, but I still watched myself say "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" most times I walked past a mirror that week. Luckily, however, her new faux flaw of choice is my hearing, which, truth be told, could certainly be better. Now, whenever she says anything to me, I literally pretend she didn't say a word. So far, it's working marvelously.
I wear glasses, and today I had an eye exam. You know that machine optometrists have that bursts air into your eyes to dialate your pupils? Well, I managed to evade it for the fifth year in a row, and, while I'm feeling pretty good about my victory over what appeared to be certain ocular peril, it does make me wonder how much the eyes-in-a-wind-tunnel process is necessary in the first place.
I'm searching for something that someone you used to date can say to you that's worse than "I guess I think I love you again". Nothing springs to mind.
A few days ago, I started trying to narrow down the list of potential grad schools to which I'm going to apply. It's looking like Emerson, Johns Hopkins, University of Chicago, University of Oregon, Sarah Lawrence, BU, UC Irvine, Columbia, Brooklyn College, NYU, University of Massachusetts and Brown. They're all amazing programs. It makes me kind of nauseous to think about.
I don't know where I stand, or where I want to stand, with anyone. I feel like I go out with the tide. I'm not much of a Bright Eyes fan, but "One Foot In Front of the Other" sneaks up and gets me sometimes.