I take off my makeup and put up my hair in ridiculous Whoville-esque hairstyles; I wear mismatching pajamas and comfortable sweatpants, and sometimes I wear sexy pajamas just because I can; I eat animal crackers and wash them down with Crystal Light for dinner and I don't do the dishes until the end of the week. I put on my i-Pod and dance around my apartment naked lip syncing to Top 40 songs and then cry to Wicked lyrics and Norah Jones lyrics knowing I have so much more in life to accomplish. I dance and perform Phantom of the Opera songs and cry when I understand the love between Christine and Raul, and cry when I realize the love between the Phantom and Christine, and cry when I realize the Phantom will not win. I read Gloria Steinem and mentally kick the shit out of those who broke my heart in the past and chortle to myself in arrogance and confidence because I know I win in the "who's life is better and more meaningful now" race. I cry because I am still so lonely, and I sometimes wish you were here. I eat breakfast in bed and sometimes an entire pan of "guiltless brownies" from Trader Joes. I look at myself in the mirror and internally diatribe the fact that my hip bones are no longer prominent, my stomach seems to have permanently bloated, and I hate the number on the scale. I hold my teddy bear close and sometimes have to sleep with the light on because I'm afraid of what is outside my door. I often fart loudly and pee with the bathroom door open, I also pee in the shower and like to sit on the toilet reading about karma and buddhist life philosophy. I sit in the quiet of my apartment wondering what big change will come next; I sit wondering what my first big publication will be; I stand looking out the window wondering if I will ever find someone like both my grandfathers and my father. I always make my bed and never sleep with the bathroom door open, I set my alarm 20 minutes ahead of the real time I need to wake up so I can press the snooze button for a good half hour in the morning--every 5 minutes--until the alarm refuses to turn off. I re-read Harry Potter books when I am in a bad mood and I am utterly grateful that I have an apartment to call my own where I can be single and unapologetically me.
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