It's Isis's birthday tomorrow. Monday, that is. ONE YEAR OLD.

Munchkin.

John is saying cryptic things to me, or asking me cryptic questions. His question was, what I thought of him. And I knew that any answer I could give him would be lined with bitterness so I told him I had no opinion.

He's complicated.

There is nothing more pleasing than writing two or three journal entries a day. Getting all my favorite thoughts written down so that I can preserve them and share them with people.

But I guess that just wasn't meant to be when it concerns college.
This is my second semester in which I find myself nostalgic for my entries but satisfied without them.