what i know at 28 (or some of it, at least)

 laughing (1 of 1)


Use toner. It is just exactly as important as you sort of hope it isn't.


Sometimes the kindness in a stranger's eyes can break your heart. Sometimes it can save your life.


Mostly everyone is as terrified as you. More so, usually. Remembering this should engender a little kindness, and courage.


Say yes when someone asks you if they can get you a cup of coffee. It's not really about the coffee.


There are conversations that will mark you--that once had will live in you from that point on. You won't know of course, until much later, until time has allowed them to settle. So be forewarned, if when speaking to you about fear, a man talks of heights and water and precipitous cliffs (and having conquered those things), but says nothing of what keeps him up at night, don't fall in love with him. He's not worth it; he's not conquered fear, he's hidden from it. And the thing about fear is, it illuminates a lot, reveals us to ourselves, points to what's most important. So what that means, really, is here's a man who's hidden from himself and you don't have the time for that. Drink that second glass of wine, kiss him once on each cheek, make your apologies and go.


The movie Notting Hill is chock-a-block full of some pretty important life-lessons. Like how the simplest things are the most meaningful. (Like sitting on a bench). And there is a lesson in that--THE lesson, maybe.


You have to be willing to say the things you're most afraid to say.


Living in New York can be hard for the simple fact that on a crowded subway platform there'll be at least one person who looks like someone you once loved.


Sometimes (and by sometimes I mean almost always) men are a little dense. They take things literally. And you have to be far clearer than you want to be, which feels a little bit hard and a little bit unfair because you're already like three feet past solid ground, just chillin' in the-land-of-vulnerability  and that is hard as fuck. (Pardon the language, but it's true). Thing is, nobody said it would be easy. And it's okay if it's not. In fact, maybe it shouldn't be.


It's okay if life is a little bit hard. And it's okay if you get a little bit blue. In fact, it's okay if you get a lot blue. It'll pass.


And it is okay not to know. Let me say that again: It is okay NOT. TO. KNOW. Which really means you gotta hold yourself accountable in those moments when you start filling in the blanks with what you think or predict or divine because the not-knowing is so damn uncomfortable. At first, you may not even realize you're doing this. Don't confuse what-you've-made-up with reality. Give it more time. Exercise patience. Remind yourself, again and again that the unknown can be a delicious thing.


If he stands you up on the first day (without meaning to), try again.


Keep going. In all matters. Keep going. Even and most especially when it feels like you're lugging your whole life behind you. Because it won't always feel that way. Change is a mysterious and magical thing.