I had a delightful weekend which almost turned into yet another fight with my mom. I went to see "Saturday Night Fever" at the Ford Center for Performing Arts with my mom, my aunts, and my cousins. It was fabulous, makes me want to be a theater actor, if I could act, dance, or sing that is. On the way back to school my mother and I have this argument. No big deal but I was pissed, she was pissed and I left the car angry. I get up to my room and what do I see on my bed? A Puppy! No not a real one. One of those FAO Schwarz stuffed animal doggies. My friend V and I had gone shopping on Michigan Ave. on Wednesday and I went into FAO Schwarz for the first time ever. When I saw that dog my eyes lit up. If I didn't have to pay my $200 housing deposit I would have bought that dog, but alas I couldn't justify my impulse buy. Away we went sans puppy.

I asked V later why she and my roommate C bought it for me. It wasn't Christmas and my birthday is months away. V said that she had noticed I had been sad for the past few weeks. I was really shocked that anyone had noticed. I suppose I hadn't hidden it as well as I thought I did. She said that she knew I needed something to brighten me up, to let me know that people loved me. Honestly, I did know that, I do know that. I think I just forgot it for awhile.

Me, Supersteph, the unbreakable rock, broke that Monday night. For once I didn't turn to you my fellow amazing Diarylanders, but to myself, and my in-person friends. I try not to burden my friends with my problems. I'm the listener, not the talker. V let me take the mask off. She put aside her own problems and let me talk. I'm not saying that my friends never hear me bitch and complain. They do and they gladly offer me advice and hugs and support when I ask. Maybe I just need to rely on them a little bit more. I'm tired of just listening and feeling burdensome when I talk. That's my own fault, though and one that I hope to remedy soon.

Love,
Supersteph