well, well, well.

I had finally summoned the willpower to stop blogging about the random - and, for the most part, pointless - goings-on in my life. I figured, why am I taking time out of my days to chronicle these trivial events, e.g. what I had for lunch, who I had lunch with, what I was thinking as I was walking through the park one day, etc etc etc.

And I did stop! For what, ten months? And I didn't even think twice about it. But it's always these times when I come back home, when I have nothing better to do but revisit old blogs (dangerous pastime), that I realize I somewhat enjoy going back and reading about myself (mmm, there's that old narcissism peeking its head out again) . Because on one hand, my long-term memory is shit for the most part; on the other hand, I revel in minute details when I'm piecing memories back together. So this cheesy little blog may come in quite handy one day when I write my memoirs, which will an exhilarating, mass accumulation of small, boring, detailed moments of my life.

Long story short: I'm back. For how long, who knows.

Since October (which feels like an eternity and a half ago), many many events have transpired, none of which I will delve into au moment. However, I will say that as of September, I will be living in my first apartment (cue SQUEAAAALLLL) with Elena, my ever-loyal roommate. 80th and 2nd, to be precise. And given all of the first-apartment-in-nyc-horror stories, I think our place is quite dapper. Hopefully apartment life will be favorable, although part of me is terrified, as this is a step towards becoming a real person.

Also, as of four days ago, I am 21 years old. GLORY.

I think I'll end my "prodigal son" (or I guess in my case, daughter) post here. Too much blogging after no blogging could send me into shock.