i'm hard at work convincing my parents to let me go home to portland next week. last night we had a bizarre conversation about how i constantly do risky things, and my life is "crazy." when i asked for examples of things that worried them, they came up with a list of things, half of which had never happened to me, the other half were wildly exaggerated. i don't know where they get their information. i told them that of course i love doing risky things, and i love how crazy my life is, isn't it great? i even told them about all the other drugs i've used and then stopped using, to convince them that i'm capable of staying away from heroin. they seemed less than shocked when i proclaimed, "i've tried every drug you've ever heard of, and a lot more.. and i'm sick of most of them.." they actually seemed to accept it as evidence that heroin was just a phase...

my biggest unforeseen problem has been people determined to blame everyone besides me for my heroin use. i keep repeating, "it was my decision, i wanted to do it, i asked for it, no one offered it to me." it would be handy if it weren't my fault, but i don't want my friends to get a bad rap. it totally was my fault. i was very persistent about doing it despite my friends...

the weirdest blame case was when c. stopped by my apartment to tell Sketchy Guy not to smoke in my room, and Sketchy Guy started screaming about how c. made me a junkie so he had no right to tell him not to smoke in my room... (which makes no sense) screaming all this down the stairs with all the windows open so anyone could hear... then he said, "have you ever noticed that becky never likes any of her boyfriends?" which is strangely accurate, considering that i've never met this person and he doesn't know anyone who knows me... i have no idea how he knows so much about my life, but i'm sure he was looking through my stuff while he was staying in my room, because he mentioned something to c. that he only would have found if he'd been going through the papers in my desk. luckily, he left a few days ago...

so i've been hanging out at gabe's house a lot. he and virginia and isabel and jeremy moved into a house in phillips, the 'hood of minneapolis. the second night they lived there they had a housewarming party, and one of their friends was taking a walk in the neighborhood when some guy tried to mug him and cut him with a knife. the friend punched him and ran away relatively unharmed. he found some bandaids for the cut at gabe's house and didn't say anything for about a half and hour, when he casually mentioned that he'd been knifed... no one believed him at first until he showed us the wound.

but the most important thing that's happened lately, for my vanity, is that i went to the eye doctor and he said my eyes were healed so i could wear contacts again. i damaged my corneas months ago from a combination of drugs and neglect, and i've had to wear my glasses since january. no matter how much i know that i'm not hideous with glasses, i still feel extremely hideous. at first i tried to go without my glasses sometimes, and i'd compare how i looked with/without them, but lately i got discouraged and i hadn't seen myself without my glasses for months. when i looked in the mirror after i put in my contacts, i had a revelation, "oh my god, i didn't used to hate the way i look! i'm myself again!" there's still a lot i can find to be insecure about, but at least i feel kind of pretty again. that night i went to see a chekhov play with gabe and i got dressed up and felt all girly.