i was over catie's tonight, laying on the hamock while eveyone smoked on the fire escape when i felt it. i was looking around at all of her stuff: her books, her cats, her plants, her loft (she lives in a fucking loft), her hamock, her hanging lights, her desk area, her artwork....and i felt it. behind. catie's 31 - i'm 27. She's already been living in this loft for a couple of years, so say since she was 28 or 29. That gives me a year to get where she is.

I feel so behind sometimes. There are ways that I've wanted to live my life..like catie...in a loft...an artist...a respected artist in the community, a teacher as RISD, she's got her masters, she spent a year in argentina, she's getting married in paris this fall...i mean...she just seems to have it made. and i look at myself and i try to be cool with where i am. i try to say, hey larisa. you've come a long way, even though you are forever single and live in one room of an apartment with 3 other people, you don't know what you want to do, you work dumb jobs, and don't have any of this cool shit, you've never done anything.

i feel good sometimes, but sometimes i do wonder where i'm going, and i know that my life will never lead me to where i expect, but i just get so sad about it sometimes. i just feel like i want so much sometimes.

blah.