I Write.

I started doing the online dating thing. But I think I'm going to stop.

Why does almost every guy want a quick sex buddy?

I mean, I get horny, too. I'm a 23-year-old virgin; in today's world I'm like a rare conch shell in the diminishing Great Barrier Reef.

I don't know what I feel right now. I miss David. I miss Cj. These are not former lovers. These are not current lovers. They are people who have made an impact on my life.

How is that some people just leave an imprint in you? As if you were made of wet cement, and this person came along and dipped a toe or placed their hand on the malleable surface. And the material hardened, and now you've got this person's print stuck on you. For better or for worse.

Is that how relationships are? Of the romantic and platonic and just plain friend varieties? What about relatives? They say you can't choose your family. I guess not. It's weird to think that those people who go to Disney World every year have some of the similar blood to me flowing through them. Or the sad-sack neglected adolescent in a poor neighborhood of Philadelphia. How much of our blood is the same? What if it were possible to take a sample of your blood and portion it into blood that belongs to your family and blood that is all yours.

Whoa, or what if when you gave blood, your family's blood went into the recipient's bloodstream, and now they were part of your family? But then, if you met this recipient years later and ended up marrying them or something, would you be marrying one of your own blood? That's so twisted up.

I have this intense urge to go sit in a coffee shop with my laptop and furiously write away. I hate the taste of coffee. It's also 9:30pm.

Sometimes I imagine that I am seeing myself from far away. I practice my facial expressions and my walk and my stance. Oh, I tucked my hair behind my ear here. And I my eye twitched there; what, am I on drugs? And I did a cool pivot move around that corner.

I'm so cool.

It's so weird.

I asked my sister if I would ever get married. She said “yes.” I asked my dad the same thing. He said “I don't know. You don't have to.”

Weddings are expensive and overrated. But it's kind of intriguing to fret over the color of the napkin holders.

Napkin holders are some of the oddest things I've ever heard of. I don't get it.

Why are napkins usually white? That only makes them look dirty before you even wipe your mouth on it. Black napkins are all sleek and elegant. I really like when I go to a restaurant and they have black napkins.

But then there's the question of whether the napkins should be cloth or paper. Because it's kind of creepy knowing someone totally made out with the cloth napkin I'm using right now. But paper napkins tend to look cheap when you're dining out. I mean, I would want to treat someone to a nice dinner with cloth napkins. Other times, I really couldn't give a crap.

Why is it that at whatever age I'm currently at, I imagine life in 2 or 3 years' time, and it always seems really nice. Years go by, but I never really feel older. I think my body stayed at 14 years old. My mind definitely grew, but I don't know.

Sometimes I get frustrated with the fact that I took a bunch of “half-ass” classes in college because I didn't feel like doing the “hard” stuff. I know nothing about business and economics. I don't know how to solve algorithms. Shit!

I can do the corpse pose. I learned deep breathing and the history of yoga. I know the basic Buddhist beliefs. I attended a class where I could use the F-word freely in my essays.

I like to eat hummus and make my own gazpacho. I'm terrified to go to some parts of Mexico after watching documentaries. I wrote a 60-page thesis in Spanish about a Catalan architect. And then I saw his works in person.

That makes me smile!

Sometimes I wish that people were like possessions that I could store in a little tupperware box and take with me everywhere. But then I guess the people would shrivel up and die.

Should I get a hermit crab or a turtle instead?

One summer I was staying in a beach house in Cape May with a friend. I remember a day when us two got locked out, and the Eastern European woman next door took us in and gave us old frumpy frocks to wear, because it was raining.

My friend swears this did not happen.