Everything that I write on my blog comes from me, in the moment. A lot of the posts I write touch up more on my past than my present, and there might be an issue because of this. Had I written those things down in the moment they were happening, or right after, I would have a better detail and memory as to what actually happened.
Isn’t it weird that whenever you’re home for an extended period of time, you’d like to be anywhere but there; but when you’re away for a while, that’s the only place you want to be? Whether it’s the smell of breakfast in the morning, how excited the dogs get when you walk in through the door, the feel of the Egyptian cotton sheets on your bed, or just the sight of your mother’s face—you miss it.
I used to be the kind of person who made fun of people who were open books. Not make fun of them maliciously or anything, I just didn’t understand how people could just be so, well, open. Even as a kid, I didn’t really get a grasp on the whole I-got-my-heart-on-my-sleeve, I-tell-people-how-I-really-feel kind of thing.
Casey followed Nina into Tarantino’s, much to her disdain. Unlike her best friend, Casey wasn’t really into the bar scene: the drinking, the dancing, the messiness. She didn’t like any of it.
Hey Jo. You probably saw this post and thought, “well, it’s about time!” And I don’t blame you for that. I kind of made your letter last on purpose, because I knew that you are actually going to read yours. So I guess I’m kind of a sadist.
If I’m going to be honest, these letters are getting harder to write. It was so easy to put down what I wanted to say to Cait and Heinrich because they’re teenagers, and I see them every day, so I know them really well as people. Brianna’s was the first hard letter to write because there’s a lot that I want to say to her, but there is also a lot that I can’t necessarily put out there for the public eye to see. Your letter—I am already one-hundred-percent sure of this, and I still have to write Joanne’s—is going to be the hardest one I have to write.
Hey Bri, I bet you’re wondering why, of all things, I would call you my best frenemy. I think it’s pretty simple: you are always either my best friend or my worst enemy. We’re sisters and so close in age, that we literally grew up together. We went through a lot of shit together, and we know way too much information about each other. There really isn’t much else to it.
Hey Cait, I’m not really sure how to start this off. I’ve never been all that good at writing letters, especially when I have a lot to say, but don’t know how to convey it all. But I’ll try my best.