Santa Fe is a bizarre place. Peace, serenity and quiet abound in the mountains, but there's little to do in the actual city. For one with such a limited appreciation of art as myself, museum after museum doesn't quite cut it. Also, restaurant service in Santa Fe is worse than any other place, even the lackluster dining scene of Columbia. At The Shed, one of the more overrated dining establishments, we waited an hour for our food when the restaurant was not busy at all. My dad, ever the one to voice a complaint, requested the presence of the manager. He calmly informed her of our horrible service, and instead of being apologetic, the 20-year-old acne queen stammered, "What do you want me to do about it?" Gee, you stupid bitch, I wanted you to make me a balloon animal.

Realizing how petty I tend to sound in the midst of complaints, I digress...

Aside from wedding activities, I spent a lot of time in the mountains near Los Alamos. All I did was think about (for me) the meaning of life. I've come to a few conclusions, mainly that I'm not relenting from my joy found in solitude. I have some great friends, but in general I prefer my own company, my books, my movies, my gym time. Even though my parents' friends comment on how "polite" and "conversational" I am, I don't feel comfortable around people. When I'm at the mall or a similar place of mass interaction, I fixate on what people might be thinking about me or what might be wrong with my hair. "Is my shirt too big? Are those girls laughing at my shoes? I know they're making fun of the way I walk." Irrational, self-sorrowful and shallow? Yeah. But that's how I feel. And my trip to Santa Fe made me realize that I don't have to look happy all the time. It's not my job to make people laugh. My life is nothing extraordinary, complicated or horrible. However, the fact remains that it's mine, and if I want to live it alone, I'm entitled to.

On a much lighter note, one of my sister's (Ashley) friends from high school is a self-described "moderately high-profile" Hollywood producer (her name's Emily) who has lunched with Gwyneth and worked with Spielberg. She offered an open invitation for me to ask her 20 questions about the industry once I've arrived in Los Angeles and use her to rub elbows with the pompous and powerful. In regard to my film career (or the pursuit of it), I can honestly say I have never been so excited, nor have I ever wanted anything so badly in my whole life. The thought of all of it just makes me feel alive.