1-2-98. 3:30pm.
Moved in somewhat. Boxes are still everywhere, everything impossible to find. I seem to need everything at once. I'm living in Chris's room until I have a bed. We watched the video of [our high school performance of Brecht's Caucasian] Chalk Circle.
The space is great, a little nervous, but excited. We had a good dinner at some cafe on St. Mark's, which I liked, I'd go there again. Blackened salmon with mashed sweet potatoes. Mom and Dad are doing well. They like the city.
Furniture shopping today. Sleeping here will be tough. I have all this noise outside my window to combat. Talked to everyone back home. No one is helping each other. I don't know what to say. I hope I can really be myself in this place. Like really be the best version of myself here. It's wonderful what's already been established. But Chris's room is a mess.
Tuesday, May 04, 2010
from 1997, Part 3
This, the last entry in the journal:
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1 comment:
a)this is unbelieveably fantastic and makes me embarrassed about my 13-years-ago notebooks. but perhaps i will reread and post bits of them on my blog. if there's anything not-humiliating in them. what an interesting mind little lee had. no surprise there.
b)!!?? i have questions.
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