twenty

Fine. I caved. I had an energy drink. BUT this was at least one of those "natural" energy drinks one buys for waaay too much at Sunflower. (The high price also pays for the smug self-righteous feeling one gets from purchasing a drink that is "fair trade" and "vegan" and "organic" and "good for the mind, body and soul" and "good at downward dog." How can a canned drink be good at downward dog, you ask? Don't ask. I don't have answers.)

So it's WINTER, you guys! Right? When does winter officially begin? And by "officially," I simply mean when is the day that we labeled with language as "the beginning of winter"? Is it today? No, it's not today. No way can it be today. No way in HELL.

Sometimes I wish I could be 20 again so I could redo a whole hell of a lot of things... Or not do them at all. There sure are a lot of things and people I wish I hadn't done, knowwhatimsayin'? I know you know. So what would I do differently if I could do 20-27 over again? Well, for starters I would be a much more involved student. I would graduate in less than eight years and have a minor in something college-y, like women's studies or art history or fuggin' philosophy. But probably sociology. Then I would never cut my hair and I would never date certain boys and I would probably date certain girls and I would never be fooled by professors and I would write waaay more poetry and do waaay less illegal things and I might even hold down a job for longer than a month or two. I would be nicer to others, but mostly I would be nicer to myself. I would speak up and stop shaving and okay, maybe once shave my head (but then let it grow! grow! grow!). I would start a Buddhist club on campus and donate my time and money to good causes. Oh, and by the way, I was lying about doing waaay less illegal things.

But what's the point of wishing for things to be different? THERE IS NO POINT. Well, there's got to be SOME kind of point. But I digress. Let me, oh Lord Buddha Santa Goddess, begin to make peace with the past and start living now for Now. I can in no way change what has happened (and what didn't happen) because time machines do not exist (yet). Instead, let me channel this remorse into some really all organic fair trade natural vegan downward yoga dog enlightened waasssup caffeinated writing and post it on my blog. Deal? You got it, babe.