As foretold, Dad came down around noon or so and we spent about three hours fixing the sliding mirror doors on Stephen's closet. It would have taken only 45 minutes if I hadn't accidentally knocked over one of the doors and shattered the mirror, wasting all of the work we'd done and requiring Dad to spend $80 on a new pair of doors. I felt like total shit about it (and still do). Dad actually took it a lot better than I did, which is actually opposite of the norm when we usually hit trouble with something. We also ducked into the art supply store and I bought some new brushes and a tube of Cobalt Blue since I only have Pthalo. I cannot wait to use them. In fact I will probably lose sleep tonight thinking about this paint and these brushes, which I know is sad, but I've been totally nuts about painting since this semester started. We had dinner with Matt and they talked the entire time. Before he left Matt extended his hand to shake as they usually did, but instead-- Dad hugged him. My dad genuinely likes my boyfriend. I am so insanely lucky to have a dad as cool as mine.
You know, I bitch and moan about my life a lot (especially in this journal-- I'm sure I look like a soulless two-year-old little shit), but the truth is, as I see it in this moment of lucidity and candor, that I really have an awesome one. I take so many things for granted and spend so much energy chasing after things that don't matter. I don't know if I'll ever be strong enough to change that, but at the very least I know:
I like my life.
I like myself.
And above all, I am happy.