March 2. I think it is settled that I’ve never been more attractive in my life. I am aging well. What’s puzzling is the way I celebrate it. I’ve always had this desire to be beautiful, a desire considered normal in women, unusual if not disqualifying in men. Gender-fluid says my girlfriend, he’s so metro says my hair-stylist. The desire is strangely undirected. I appreciate to receive compliments, but only in the sense that they confirm I’ve made an aesthetically correct decision. I don’t pursue a goal, I don’t talk to anyone, and I want to keep it that way.