The other day, maybe yesterday, I had this epiphany in which I realized that it was not even remotely ok or socially acceptable for me to get moody and teary when I drink. Maybe for a week, when I got to indulge my heart that was put through the wringer, but after that deadline, no more. Well, that deadline passed months and months ago, on both counts, so what the hell am I doing still wallowing? I mean, even when drunk, I am old and mature enough to have self-control so that I stop wandering around depressed and teary-eyed in bars. Seriously, no more retardness. Yeah, that retardness was one of the things that was going to stop when I turned 30, but I think it'd be best for everyone in my life, and my own already sullied good name, if it ended sooner than that.
I'm an idiot. That is all. Move along.
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I'm an aspiring expat because I'd love to live out my life abroad. I used to travel, and I used to write about traveling. Now I'm done with law school, done with my bar trip, and trying my best to be an adult. My life is no longer defined by juvenile law school drama, neither is it defined by the craftiness and domesticness that I want it to be defined by. Hopefully this is interesting nonetheless.
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