Woke up tossing and turning to this agonizing fear of growing up too fast, being too grown up for my age; a phobia I know intimately. We go way back. Almost as good of a friend as my fear that I am not grown up enough. Couldn’t go back to sleep. Reminds me of that quote from that 21 year old girl who wrote that coming of age book I hung on my wall last year: “when will I feel like I am enough just the way I am?”

Talking about Microsoft Outlook with John. How it revolutionizes the way you think and work. Totally compatible with our pda’s. “Microsoft’s the bomb dude,” he says. “Shit man between grunge rock, Microsoft, and Starbucks they must have something pretty magical in their water there in Seattle.” I say. “Yea either that, or it's all that doobage man,” Beav says. Reminiscing with Beav tonight about the old days when we were teenagers before he was married. We were totally on our own at a very young age. How he used to stay up all night getting high and playing video games and he would always sleep through his first day of a new job and I would wake him up at noon and he would scramble around the room trying to get dressed fast as he could only to be fired that same day. Or how he would register for college every semester and drop out by the fourth week for never going on time. Then he got married at the age of nineteen. I was the best man at his wedding. ‘dude you're not tripping are you?’ ‘dude, I think I still am man.’ ‘oh shit. Well look, just try to keep it cool till it's over, o.k. just look at the giant statues but don't get freaked out. please man... this is my wedding for God sakes....” crazy times. 

He gets married and moves into the guest room of his in-law’s house. He goes to work at a video store during the day and a pizza hut at night while his eighteen year old high school sweetheart wife goes to college. He puts her through college. She graduates, starts working, he starts going to night school, works his way up the corporate ladder of an oil company. Twelve years later he’s an accounting manager of a whole floor of people twice his age, pulling in over a hundred thousand G’s a year, two cars in the garage, and two beautiful babies. It's the goddamn American dream if there ever was one. We’re sitting here tonight looking at each other like, ‘holy shit man you did it.’
  

Current Read: The Notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci in Italian and English. A gift. He wrote left-handed, and from right to left. Painter, sculptor, scientist, writer, inventor--invented the first flying machine—in the fifteen hundreds no less. Inspires me to continue to say no when invited out to clubs parties or bars to hang out and stay home even more to work. My friends already call me a hermit. But I am most happiest when I am working. And when I am out I am always just thinking about working. But I don't want to lose my friends. Sometimes when they are all getting ready to go out and don't invite me I get mad and say ‘hey what the fuck?” They're like, “well we didn't think you would want to go anyway.” “yea I know. But still at least invite me so I can say no.”