Superbowl XLVIII

When you feel embarrassed, I'll be your pride.
When you need direction, I'll be the guide.
For all time.

I love you in the ways you are like me and different from me. When I'm with you, sometimes you annoy me with your electronic cigarette and your egoism and your constant craving to be right. Sometimes you'll have me on a last string and maybe I'll say something dumb or maybe I'll smile through it because you're one of the only people I want to treat with gentleness. But it shouldn't matter, right? We are friends, we know that. We gotta look out for each other, help each other, comfort each other, and accept each other. We gotta make life better. I think we do. I used to go over to your house and sleep in your bed and I'd hide my face from you at night, then in the morning I'd smile when I saw you sleeping. Now here I sit remembering how you showed me the opening line of Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk when we stood outside my car, and I said I didn't back away from my mother's blood and you shrugged saying, "Yeah well I just like that line." That's what I'd do, now that I've met you. A year ago I would have thought I was wrong. I still think I'm inherently wrong sometimes, and that limits life like you wouldn't believe. But you (and others!) accepted me as I was, a confused, depressed, awkward, nearly atheistic, lazy, beautiful, poetic little girl, and you didn't tell me to go to church or that I had sinned.

Here's what I liked about the Superbowl: nobody came to Starbucks. Cool people came to Starbucks. Some British guy asked if we had flapjacks. Courtney closed for the first time. Courtney, Kelly, and I talked about Keegles. The headset. Jimmy John's and the attractive delivery guy and how Courtney was on the phone with him for like 30 minutes. Pickles. How that guy told me I was the only one working and I didn't agree. How 3 people came through the drive thru at or after 9:55pm. All the food all the food all the food. Zebra mochas for little girls, iced not hot. A Deaf lady came through! Sign! How we closed pretty much on time, and I figured out how to clean the Mastreno. I hit Courtney in the face. Hugged Morgan goodbye. I'll never understand Becca.

The monster is the mirror. I want so bad to wear short sleeves again.

Keep telling myself every every every second:

There is NOTHING wrong with you. Walk through this world, accept the changes, hold fast to what you know is right, be open to discovering more goodness and maturity, treat every little living being with killing kindness.