I gave a presentation on Allen Ginsberg today and actually got some laughs. I held everyone's attention. People (well, Eddie and Chris) gave little pat-on-the-back compliments when I finished. I hope I taught them something.

When I was younger I hated looking at myself in the mirror. I hated how I looked. But I did it anyway, because I wanted to know what I was like. In Modern today I kept looking in the mirror, watching how I move and behave and smile and everything. I'm no beauty queen but I'm not bad. I'm just another girl.

I'd taken a bunch of photos. It was beautiful out. I walked to Union Square with Rachel and talked about old friends and then finished Nightwood on the bench there. I kept thinking about all the things I am that I'd stopped being all of first semester. When I'm being myself, I'm very friendly. I tend to like people. I'm somewhat maternal towards my friends. I feel inspired all the time and feel like there's a million mysteries that will make themselves clear to me over time. I feel at peace.

I really, honestly feel like I'm returning to that. Even more, though. I feel older. I feel independent and mature and at peace. I feel intelligent and powerful and aware of myself. I'm strong enough now to read a disturbing book like Nightwood and still look into the sun and enjoy it. I'm strong enough to talk to strangers again, but now I don't worry so much about what they think of me. I'm strong enough to know that Harry loves me even when he has to do something over the weekend. I feel more in control of my own behavior and my life.

I remembered taking Yoga freshman year in the same room and thinking I'd never be as cool as the seniors. Now I look in the mirror and like what I see--a dark, spotted Mexican face under wild French hair, a lush body with bony shoulders and hips, barely visible through my huge clothes. My notebooks and camera and bike lock sit off to the side, waiting. My movements are limber and awkward and vaguely sexual. I'm tall and uncoordinated but not entirely graceless. My smile is an erruption across my face.

My attempts at gaining self-confidence haven't been all that successful in the past. I usually manage to be happy for a few months before breaking down again, unsure of whether or not I'll be able to get up again. It's different now, though. It's not an effort; it's a subtle part of me that seems to be built into the foundation of who I am.

I'm a human being, intelligent, talented and cultured, with a whole life ahead of me in which to further define myself. I have to be natural and be true to my likes and dislikes, and acknowledge sometimes that I don't know yet.

I saw Anna Paquin on the street today. I saw the same confidence in her face that I felt. It was lovely.

I really, really don't want to be depressed any more.