the last few days have been emotionally polar ones. a friend of mine is moving to alaska, which is a sad thing indeed. no one that I could label "a good friend," but someone that I truly wish I'd spent more time with. and he's moving to alaska. a bold move by any standards, one that makes me think about all the chances I haven't taken. studying law out west. studying film up north. all the adventures I passed up on. even thinking back on my life a few years ago--going to shows, partying on weekends (or during the week), learning...anything. I used to be alive, dammit!

not that I have anything to legitimately complain about. I don't regret any of the choices I've made, because they've provided a means to the fulfilled, comfortable life that I lead now. I guess what I'm wondering is...is this it? am I done? an actualized life at the ripe old age of twenty-four? no more adventures, no more prospects? I just don't know if I'm ready to accept that.

there's this mental image that always pops up when I ask myself, "who do you wish you were?" I see myself in greenwich village, union square I think. it's a fall day, cool and breezy (of course it's usually breezy in manhattan). I'm wearing a tweed jacket over a sweater and jeans. I'm holding a 35 mm movie camera. I look up, I smile, and I revel in all the life around me, wanting to take it all in, to capture it.

this from the guy who is too lackadaisical to even take up cinematography as a hobby.

on a completely different note, is it too much to ask that a supermarket carry peanut butter cookies? harris teeter at friendly center doesn't, unless they're well hidden. no major brands, none in the deli, no bake your own (except ones that have reese's pieces). grr.