Travel Journal #4

I finally got here. I am exhausted, but satisfied. I've met some interesting people, as well as some not so interesting people. I had dinner with some other women at a restaurant called "The African Queen". How fitting. I had 4 cheese ravioli and a wine from Provence. Also fitting.

I cam home to my roommates, who I am probably senior to by almost ten years. They have automatically exluded and ignored me. I'm not upset. I heard them talking out on the balcony over their decadent sophomoric cigarettes about lost love, broken relationships and the like. They talk about two and three year relationships and I can't help but be intrigued and fascinated. They are so far ahead of me and ten years younger. How do they do it? I don't see how they are more attractive or smarter or more interesting, yet somehow they are able to speak of love as if they really know something about it. Meanwhile, all I know about is 90 days and a broken heart. About being unwanted, undesireable, unlovable. Not exactly what I had hoped to learn in school. Perhaps I am not "grown up" yet. Or perhaps I am already old. I know I feel dead already.