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Day three thousand five hundred sixty-two. Or something like that.
On October 18, 1995, the day before my fourteenth birthday, I wrote the following on the very first page of my very first paper journal:
This morning (two days before my twenty-fourth birthday, for those playing along at home) I rolled out of bed, pulled on some clothes, and drove![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iuliamentis to the airport at the end of a weekend we spent watching hockey and The Dead Zone and talking about, oh, nothing. Still nifty. Still best friends.
I love you, dude.
Julie just called... I've finally made a friend with whom I can talk about 'oh, nothing.' Nifty!
This morning (two days before my twenty-fourth birthday, for those playing along at home) I rolled out of bed, pulled on some clothes, and drove
iuliamentis to the airport at the end of a weekend we spent watching hockey and The Dead Zone and talking about, oh, nothing. Still nifty. Still best friends. I love you, dude.