I feel like I'm not doing a good enough job keeping in touch with people. And I feel like I've traded the Linfield bubble for a Boise bubble -- but instead of the "shelter" of the Linfield bubble, the Boise bubble contains just me, only me . . . my life is an eight hour day of work (hate the work, love the people in my office), and then I come home
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P.S. Me, too. I was talking to one of Peter's friends about having guy friends and a boyfriend, and I found myself saying, "well, actually, that was when I was in college... I don't really hang out with anybody but Peter now."
Oh, and I got your e-mail, I'll call you/send you mine soon. So you can CALL ME next time you're in Portland.
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Hopefully this lack of hanging out with people thing is just the symptoms of transitioning from one place to the next. Because I'm looking over at you, and you're kicking ass! So, I'm sure that things will ultimately work out for us.
And I PROMISE to call you next time I'm in Portland.
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Love,
Jaime
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I got your email about joining livejournal and have already added you to my friends list.
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I truly feel like we're living the same life, only in different places. I live alone, in a brand new, yet-to-be-unpacked apartment. I work nearly every day, and come home to no one. I have a boyfriend, but he lives nearly 500 miles away and we talk on the phone maybe three times a week. I'm addicted to bad TV, the internet, and organizing my closet. It's a sad, sad life waiting around for the fall. When, at least for me, I know things aren't going to be much better. Sure I'll be making lots of money, but I'll still be relatively alone here. And what do I do about it? Watch Newlyweds and skim through my bookshelves to kill time.
I'm not really sure why I posted all this, since I added nothing helpful at all, but I figure misery (or, in this case, relative isolation) loves company. The good news? I'll be home for (sigh) Megan's wedding July 27th for a few weeks. Let's try to pop our bubbles together, okay? Keep on truckin, Maran. :-)
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(And since you mentioned being addicted to bad TV . . . I thought I'd mention how much pleasure I get from Joe Schmo 2 . . . it's rather sad, actually.)
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