Who will get the election in November, who who who who who who?
What will I do if W gets in? Besides cry and scream and shake my fist at the sky, I mean.
Should I grow or cut my hair?
How much money do I need?
What will I be like in twenty years? In forty?
In twenty or forty years, when I look back at September 2004, age twenty-nine and a half, what will I think of immediately?
Will I ever find a perfect pair of pants that make me look good and are comfortable and cute and don’t fade in the wash and don’t need to be ironed and don’t put my belly rolls on display? (If I do ever find them, I plan to buy two pairs in every color).
Will I ever have a great grand love or was this pretty much it for me?
How brave do I have to be?
Should I get eggplant highlights? If so, professional or over-the-counter?
Will I ever make it to the next level of dance expertise or will I languish at the stage I’m at forever?
Similarly, what do I have to do to improve my writing?
Who else will I meet through writing this journal?
When will I stop writing this journal?
Will I ever live in the same town as my mom or sister again?
Speaking of hurricanes, are we done with hurricane season yet?
Does God really hate women and gay folks and all the other people some people say God hates? Is there a place for me anymore in any God-oriented community or am I pretty much on my own?
What’s the great tragedy of my life?
And, just so we don’t get too melodramatic over here, what’s the great success, the great joy?
If I write Margaret Cho and tell her I love her, is that weird and kiss-uppy or is that cool or is it meaningless because she’ll never read the email and won’t respond anyway. Of course, Ursula K. LeGuin responded that one time I wrote her, so you never know.
Will I ever make out with a girl?
Are the Key Girls ever going to do a big trip together for our thirtieth birthdays, like I was talking about with Manya last week, without husbands or babies or should I just leave the mid-nineties to the mid-nineties?
What’s my one true karaoke song, and why can’t I sing karaoke in public in front of adoring fans the way I can in peoples’ living rooms?
Am I always going to be jealous of people I think are just about equal to me in terms of talent or ability?
If there’s a point in everyone’s life when potential turns into might-have-been, have I passed it yet? And when, exactly, was that?
Is my “biological clock,” which has heretofore been absolutely silent, ever going to start ticking? Will there be a point in my life when I wish I’d made different choices and had children?
When am I going to feel that NOW is when my real life starts?