Bad Blogger. BAD.

I just slapped my own wrist to accompany the title. (I really did. I hadn't before I typed it, but then I felt like I was being untruthful, so I actually slapped my wrist. But not hard. I'm so Method.)

Yeah. Life happens. And sometimes it gets in the way of writing. I know I am the very first person ever to have that problem.

I moved, so that's my excuse. I moved one weekend and then my best friend from college surprised me with a visit that was two years in the making the next weekend and now this coming weekend my mom is coming to visit me for the first time in the two years I've lived in LA. I'm very excited. And somewhat sleep-deprived. And a little stressed about the state of my bathroom and bedroom. But the over-the-toilet cabinet has been purchased and is camping out in our bathroom so that every time we go in there it can prod us saying "So...when you going to actually put me together? I don't do it myself, you know." But buying it is half the battle. The other half is putting it together. And then the third half is actually putting things away in it.

I've had a wonderful influx of friends from the past coming back into my life lately. I was lamenting some of my lost or forgotten friendships, and they seem to be coming back one by one. I have lunch with a dear friend on Friday who just came to LA for some reason having to do with creating theatre. We think we haven't seen each other since 2006. It's hard to imagine who I even was then. Hopefully the new and more evolved me will still enjoy the company of the new and more evolved her.

My visiting friend last weekend saw my new apartment and my cat and proclaimed me a grown-up. For the first time in my life, I thought maybe that isn't such a bad thing. But I still know that I'm not really. Maybe I'm just getting better at living like one.