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Like a slut to your chest.

I'm going to make an effort to write for the next twenty minutes.

I don't know what's going to come of it. It's ironic that being happy really doesn't leave any room for being sad. Even yesterday when I felt a hint of it, I was okay.

I thought my life couldn't get much better, with the gallery and my family, but today I got a job. I'll find out when I start tomorrow, and what they finally decide to bring to the table pay wise. I know it's going to be around what I made in Montana, which really sucks considering the cost of living, but isn't bad considering it only took me a month.

I'm pretty sure everyone is sick to death of my good news phone calls starting at about 3 pm and ending once I've left long rambling messages on their machines.

I do usually get to talk to my mother. Our conversations walk around the block, subject wise. It's fun most of the time.

Though, lately I've been the go between my mom and my dad. Their divorce was not a nice one, even after being married for 20 years, and raising my brother and I, my dad can't talk to her. It wasn't until recently that I even felt comfortable talking about mom around him.

This started when my dad inquired about a drawing I had done at about age 4 of my dad. (If my mom actually scans it, I'll post it. It's pretty funny.) Then, it progressed into my dad feeling badly because he didn't have any baby pictures. So now, my mom being the most giving person in the entire world, has agreed to scan all of the good pictures in so my dad can print them when ever he wants. Most importantly, so I can print them when ever I want.

My dad is really being a dad. Every time I think about how grateful I am for that, I cry. I think there's a weird stage in most people's lives where their parents aren't sure how to treat them, as a child, or as an adult. Both of my parents now know to just treat me as me. And I know they're usually right about almost everything.

. . .

This move. Man. If anyone had asked me 2 months ago where I would be, and how my life would be going, I would have told them they were high.

I can see the not so obvious reasons for my time in Montana now. It was a humble year and a half, to show me what I have here, and to not take it for granted. My whole family has come together for me, and I've never really known they could do that.

. . .

I catch myself almost apologizing for losing that style I had going. I think I wrote some really beautiful things, and I think sometimes this really sucks. It's a check in now, for everyone that cared enough to follow me here. I'm hoping to gain back the humor I lost so long ago, try to just keep a little more upbeat.

. . .

I've started stopping by my dad's house to tell him things, because I'm tired of the phone, and he's only about 10 minutes away over the river.

Today, on my way there to give him news about the job, I believed I deserved this.

I believed I earned it.

And I'm right.

9:40 p.m. - 2003-03-03

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