Stacy and Clinton

I did not see The Boy last night. I saw one of my best friends instead and another girl I haven't spoken to in a long time. It was fun to be without him, to be the other person I am with the girls. Some people say that you should be who you are around everyone, but each person gets someone a little different, that's just the way things are. I am not the same person I am in front of my parents that I am with The Boy, that I am with a bunch of giggling girls talking about fashion, What Not To Wear, and our lives. It's a different connection, it's a different feeling, and I enjoyed it.

It's been so long since I've spent time with just girls, sitting around with the tv on, commenting on life, throwing out the details of importance and non-importance. It was fun and I hope to do it again soon. I shall be seeing those same girls tonight and we wish one of them a Happy Birthday, which I hope it is indeed.

Currently, I am looking for music online, trying to find something with meaning, with substance, and a sound I like. This is hard and I am not really sure why I am doing this. I no longer listen to music in the car. I strictly listen to books on CD. Each time I enter the car a story plays for me, a story that I recall the last edges of, shimmery edges of excitment, of feeling I didn't want to get out of the car because then the story will end. But I do not bring the tale inside, no. It stays in the car. It is only meant to be heard in bits and pieces, not in long stretches. For I listen to books I would never otherwise read, could never otherwise finish. I would have given up on them in the first few pages, but with a voice slipping from the speakers, the story takes on a lifelike quality... as if a friend is in the car beside me waiting for so she can finish telling her story.

She waits for me. And it's nice. Just like my friend waited for me to ditch The Boy for a night, just like I waited for her to finally have time for a social life, we all wait. And the wait is worth it.