I've divided myself. I'm back into things at 30 that I was into at 15: baseball, Groo comics, military history, "Kill 'em All," the Chicago Bulls. It's a good way to live, I feel. Why not? I spent much of the last 10 years trying to prove I was smarter and hipper than my peers. What has it gotten me? Rotten teeth and a lifetime subscription to Magnet... and I give those to my therapist.
I used the bathroom at Trader Joe's today. It's very spacious with large mirrors over the sink and on the door, and I caught myself primping: my hair, my sweater, my pants. Did it look all right? I was still in the bathroom at Luxx in 2001--a part of me was. But that's okay. I comfort myself with the belief that the various versions of ourselves, year to year, combine to make us in the present. If you were to throw a stone, supersonically, at my chest, I would break apart, fragmenting into my many previous selves: a baby, a 15 year old, a 24 year old and many others.
And, man, do they get hungry. Thankfully, dinner's almost ready.