don't apologize; i hope you choke and die.

it's so easy to forget what my life used to be like. it's even weird to come home. at first, you feel strange. you have this whole other life and yet everything is still right there. and then it's weird how easily you slip back into the old things. and the other life is the one that seems strange. i forget about a lot of good things. a lot of bad things too. bad things like friends who bail, having to plan everything, fighting with drew, dealing with joe. good things like the diner, spontaneous plans, the consistency of our conversations (which i haven't found anywhere else), and car sing-alongs. they don't even deserve to be called that. 'sing-along' has the wrong connotations. it's so much different. you forget how wonderful it feels to drive at night on empty, familiar streets, up the mountain, down by the river, weaving in a out of neighborhoods on linglestown road. then you put in something good. even something that might be embarrassing. and you just sing along. every word. doing the overlapping melodies and lines. screaming when appropriate. and not just fake screaming. real screaming. and remembering old stuff and how things were then and how the words apply now and growing into songs in new ways. not worrying about the other person in the car. connecting with them beyond conversation in some weird cosmic sense. i miss that. the best times are with liz. the time we drove to pittsburgh singing brand new nonstop. or the time meredith and i drove to new york to see pat and sand bright eyes the entire way. it's always an unspoken decision. and we change the cds in silence. liz and i reminisced tonight about smoking and road trips. the good times are killing me.

new years eve tomorrow. keep your fingers crossed.