I walked home at 1:30 in the morning after a party because I was scared to sleep in a basement with centipedes. No one quite comprehended my fears and I didn't completely understand them either. The whole way home I thought about this poem that I wrote about centipedes sophomore year. I wondered if it applied to the current situation. I wasn't sure.

People reveal their insecurities while drunk and I find it endearing and sad. Like how Katie lifts up her shirt while drunk. I really miss Katie. I show my insecurities often anyways. I talk about writing a lot. How I want to do it more. The things that other people say about themselves always surprises me. It's like having a zit on your face and no one notices it except for you, but it overwhelms your face, it's all you can think about.

On the bright, happy, literal side, I got to listen to Emily record 3 writer's yesterday and it was really cool, especially Kristin Naca. I had no idea there were so many writer's in the Twin Cities (they recorded more the other two days they were here).