It's all good.

I'm at the airport, an hour away from an NYC bound flight. I am fucking ecstatic. I mean, I am going to New York for 3 days and I feel like I'm about embark on an African Safari adventure or some other equally amazing trip...but I don't care, I'm excited.

I've been to NYC 6 or 7 times...it's nothing new. But I've never been with Christina, I've never seen a show, I've never gone and just had no agenda except to have a wonderful time. And she and I, well, we both need a wonderful time.

I broke up with Stewart a week ago today. He doesn't even know that yet. That's a whole other long story, but I'm not kidding. And that's the issue with the whole relationship. I've ended things and he doesn't even know because he is too busy worrying about himself to worry about me at all. But even that's ok, because I do an alright job of taking care of myself.

So this weekend, I'm going to laugh, and eat, and shop, and pay $17 for a margarita, and revel in the fact that maybe there are some things missing from my life, but damn it, I can fly off to NYC for the weekend anytime I want...and I don't have to justify it to anyone.

Instead of worrying about all the shit, I don't have, I'm going to enjoy what I do. :)