on this day...

I may have a thing for traditions. I love holidays. Birthdays are always very special and I tend to remember anniversaries of all sorts. Dates just stick in my head and each annum becomes significant. Yesterday I celebrated (sort of) the years that have passed since a day where I failed. Today marks another anniversary, though not in years. It is three months since I arrived in Austin.

My experiences in Austin have been mostly of the internal sort. All that intrinsic crap that only coming-of-age novelists write about. Okay, I'll admit, the months have flown by in simplicity and rote. What angst I have experienced got compacted into the last week or so. Which basically means: it's time for a change.

The nature of this change is not yet clear to me. I've written fourteen pages in my journal about it and made a spreadsheet or two, and Nora, Emilie and Mom have been victims of my need to discuss it all. But that's just a girl trying to understand the problem, not yet moved on to solving it. I haven't written about any of these conundrums on my blog, because I haven't talked about it openly in this here the real world. I've tried, but all my friends know how lame my efforts generally are.

Poor April, she was the first one to demand of me: won't you say something! Bryan and Ted (opposites themselves in their communication habits) fought me tooth and nail to get me to say the things I had to.

And so, knowing my own proclivity not to talk about my concerns/worries/hurt feelings/anything that's not fictional, I feel like I ought to make a written commitment now, to say, at least I am talking about it all tonight. Because that's my plan, to gird up my loins and express myself. But just on the off-chance that I chicken out, I think I'll keep that quiet.