Hello, city!

Greetings from this newfound urban woman. This woman crosses against the light, walks with confidence, and has already found an adorable, affordable eclectic Asian diner.

I'm ludicrously happy here in Chicago, and I can't wait for classes to start. I've already found some incredible friends and made some silly decisions. It feels freeing and wonderful. Just last night, I invited one of my new friends David over to drink some wine and have a conversation. And converse we did, about incredibly powerful things, for four hours. This is the sort of thing I used to talk about- "I can't wait to have meaningful discussions with like-minded people about things that really matter!" And now I'm doing that.

I feel that a lot, actually. Realizing that the things I've been looking forward to for years while in my dark places- these things are here. This awareness is both positive and challenging. I feel this intense need to 'live it up' that it's beginning to turn into pressure. I'm not a huge partier by nature, I feel more comfortable in small groups of people having intimate discussions or spending quality time together. I don't think the whole 'go-out-and-get-slobbery-drunk' thing is right for me. I also have already been exposed to alcohol for quite a while, and don't feel the need to find a party and get wasted like some other freshman around me do. I'm coming into college knowing what I want- I am a (mostly) whole version of myself, improving all the time with the growth of my knowledge and experience. I know what I want with myself and the world around me, and I know who I am. I'm entering this big life experience in a terrific place, and I'm proud of myself. I think my dad would be proud of me too.

I think about my dad a lot, especially now that I'm here. I didn't like that he couldn't see my off on my first day in my dorms. My mom's boyfiance, Steve (boyfriend/fiance/whatever the hell they call it), came to help unload and move in and see me off, which I appreciated a lot. He got all of my things out of the car and unloaded into my room within a half an hour. It was incredible. I liked that Steve was there. I mean, of course I would have rather had my own father there, but in the absence of that option, Steve is a wonderful guy to have around. I used to be pretty mad about my mom's relationship with him... but she is so damn happy. This version of my mom is the best version I've ever seen. I've always known her to be tightly wound with worry, tearing up at the drop of a hat and referring to her life as in "constant crisis mode". That woman was not a happy woman, and we were not a happy family. But now she is healthy and smiling and beautiful and shiny in this intense relationship with Steve, and I prefer that to an old, fading widow. I'm happy for my mother for being able to find two incredible loves in one lifetime, the lucky bitch.

Anyhow. I'm well, I'm happy, and I'm looking forward to the rest of where college and life are going to take me. By the way, I'm thinking of adopting the practice of radical honesty. Haven't decided yet, but as someone who has manipulated and lied for most of her life, I want to make a clean break from the girl who I used to be and leap forward to the woman I am growing into.

I feel like I have come so far and am so much I never was before.