2001-05-29 || 2:16 p.m.

|| 'she was also one of bette midler's dancers.' ||

first i had a dream about my parents discovering this diaryland page and i thought, in a dream state, in a teenage way, 'oh dear! the sex and the cigarettes! the sporadic drug use! oh! they will find out!' and in my dream my sister was sitting against a wall smoking a cigarette (she doesn't smoke) looking very tough and told me to calm down. and i woke up thinking, hmm. it wouldn't be that big of a deal, really. but it's easy to get caught up in the fear that my parents will find out about the bad things i do, however innoculous, regardless of the fact that i am an independent lady, a fully-functional adult (well let's pretend).

then i was in the passenger seat of a car darting up the 80 this weekend, looking out at sacramento and davis and all that brown and green, and my sunglasses flew off of my head. but that is beside the point. in the passenger seat, watching the ribbons of green and brown studded with mini marts and car lots and tragic broken sunglasses crushed on the road, i realized that this diaryland page could be here for a very long time: all these entries and words and not-so-very-secret secrets floating around, perfectly preserved. and someone is bound to stumble upon it. my kids even. it's so funny to think about. it makes you feel a bit powerless. like writing all your secrets on a piece of paper and folding it into an airplane, throwing it into the wind knowing full well that at that point it is no longer yours, that anyone in the world can grab it and read it and send it off again.

nutty.

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