How Unclimatic

A couple nights ago, I took my first drink of wine (that my parents know about). The glass was just sitting on the dinner table, and my mom urged me to try it. Much better than the Zinfandel. Probably pricer. Though it does please me that I preferred a "grown up" Bordeaux to an "accessible" white Zinfandel.

Last night, I wrote in a paper journal. I keep going over and over about my makeup regimen, mostly because I have nothing else to think about. February is supposed to be Turquoise, but why do I need this system? Why do I impose arbitrary rules on my life? I'm bordering OCD. This is not Awesome.

I need to learn to follow my heart better.

In all things, really.