Well, here begins another chapter in my fucked up, whirlwind life. Melancholy is setting in, as i'm trying to pack up all of the "important" things and set off into Brooklyn. I'll be fine, i'll be great - this is what I want to be doing. For now at least.
Im sure, eventually, I will be regretful for all the things I didn't do this summer. But, really, hell, isn't that what the LIRR is for? Isn't that what days off are for?
I'm still trying to figure out if I should keep up on this blog or not. I probably will. It'll just be filled with nonsensical escapades from Brooklyn - yes, Williamsburg, everyones favorite hipster punchline. Hell, thats reason enough to keep writing, isnt it?
So, here goes. New start.
8.18.2008
story of a girl
I accepted a job in the city this afternoon. I have nine days left of summer, nine days left of Long Island, nine days left of home.
I'm going to embrace these next nine days.
I'm going to embrace these next nine days.
8.15.2008
they say that all good things must end someday
There are two more weekends left in the summer. Then, as quickly as it came, summer will be gone. Having been down south for so long, I never realized how fast a NY summer was. The heat comes, typically, in July and lasts until August, and by the end of September, you're in boots and a jacket. Summer rolls in out here like the firehouse carnival - bringing with it glittering lights, interesting people, and wonderful food. Suddenly, out of seemingly nowhere, you find yourself putting on a hoodie at night, and before you know it, summer has breezed out of town.
Having made a conscious effort to curb my self-destruction summer tour '08 (and having faceplanted on a rock, smashing my face to near bits) i've been able to cut myself off from the world completely and create my own little safe bubble. I feel like I perhaps should have done this from the start, when I first arrived back here. Shell-shocked and numb, I hibernated for about a week, then threw myself whole-heartedly into doing what girls like I do best - hitting the pub. Hell, anyone, on the heels of breaking up with their not-so-future husband would probably do the same. Or jump off a bridge. I jumped, alright, straight into salty townie bars. Ain't nothing wrong with that. So, now, after not going out for about the past 3 or so weeks, I feel much better. I can be the elusive girl again - not the local prodigal daughter (which I really am) but the mysterious, glamorous, fun and exciting one.
I will be getting a phone call in the next few days that may direct my next move. In a matter of days, if I get the news I am hoping for, I will be scrambling to pack up everything I have, and scrambling to find an apartment in Brooklyn. That's what I want. However, I see myself scrambling, should I get the job, to squeeze every bit of summer out of what time I have left here, and squeezing any bit of relaxation and lack of responsibility out of the slacker lifestyle i've done so well since November. That's not a bad thing, and honestly, being gone before winter is worth it.
Having made a conscious effort to curb my self-destruction summer tour '08 (and having faceplanted on a rock, smashing my face to near bits) i've been able to cut myself off from the world completely and create my own little safe bubble. I feel like I perhaps should have done this from the start, when I first arrived back here. Shell-shocked and numb, I hibernated for about a week, then threw myself whole-heartedly into doing what girls like I do best - hitting the pub. Hell, anyone, on the heels of breaking up with their not-so-future husband would probably do the same. Or jump off a bridge. I jumped, alright, straight into salty townie bars. Ain't nothing wrong with that. So, now, after not going out for about the past 3 or so weeks, I feel much better. I can be the elusive girl again - not the local prodigal daughter (which I really am) but the mysterious, glamorous, fun and exciting one.
I will be getting a phone call in the next few days that may direct my next move. In a matter of days, if I get the news I am hoping for, I will be scrambling to pack up everything I have, and scrambling to find an apartment in Brooklyn. That's what I want. However, I see myself scrambling, should I get the job, to squeeze every bit of summer out of what time I have left here, and squeezing any bit of relaxation and lack of responsibility out of the slacker lifestyle i've done so well since November. That's not a bad thing, and honestly, being gone before winter is worth it.
8.10.2008
It truly can happen anywhere...
"But, things like this don't happen here!"
I'm not really sure how to begin about this horrible incident. It is certainly something that must be told - as it is a HUGE story, and one that, sadly, hits far too close to home and effects the community (especially the local/bar scene, as, we know, i know well).
Where I can begin is this: I know the Public House. I was in fact, supposed to go out there the night this happened. I've spent many nights there, both eating with my grandparents and drinking with my friends. Never once have i ever seen it be rowdy or out of control. Granted, it
s crowded, and granted, in the summer there's certainly a different crowd, but it's always been a nice, clean, respectable place. I have friends who work there. Friends who go there. This could have been anyone, anywhere. It could have been one of my friends.
I've lived in horrible neighborhoods in horrible cities. I've seen bodies in the street and i've seen horrible things go down. However, I always had my guard up. I always knew what I was getting into. Never once have I ever felt unsafe at the Public House, and never once have I ever witnessed anything even remotely close to a scuffle there, let alone 2nd degree murder. My only encounters with bouncers at the Public House were them waving me in with a smile while waiving the cover (Secret local code), bumming a cigarette and having conversations on the lawn, and witnessing them asking patrons to politely remove their baseball caps. Yes, that's the extent of it.
Needless to say, I am shocked, horrified and stunned at this event. My heartfelt condolonces go out to Reister's family and children, friends and aquaintances. Also, my thoughts and support are with the Public House and their staff - who have always looked out for everyone who walks in their doors - I know that many of us are looking out for them at present.
I'm not really sure how to begin about this horrible incident. It is certainly something that must be told - as it is a HUGE story, and one that, sadly, hits far too close to home and effects the community (especially the local/bar scene, as, we know, i know well).
Where I can begin is this: I know the Public House. I was in fact, supposed to go out there the night this happened. I've spent many nights there, both eating with my grandparents and drinking with my friends. Never once have i ever seen it be rowdy or out of control. Granted, it
s crowded, and granted, in the summer there's certainly a different crowd, but it's always been a nice, clean, respectable place. I have friends who work there. Friends who go there. This could have been anyone, anywhere. It could have been one of my friends.
I've lived in horrible neighborhoods in horrible cities. I've seen bodies in the street and i've seen horrible things go down. However, I always had my guard up. I always knew what I was getting into. Never once have I ever felt unsafe at the Public House, and never once have I ever witnessed anything even remotely close to a scuffle there, let alone 2nd degree murder. My only encounters with bouncers at the Public House were them waving me in with a smile while waiving the cover (Secret local code), bumming a cigarette and having conversations on the lawn, and witnessing them asking patrons to politely remove their baseball caps. Yes, that's the extent of it.
Needless to say, I am shocked, horrified and stunned at this event. My heartfelt condolonces go out to Reister's family and children, friends and aquaintances. Also, my thoughts and support are with the Public House and their staff - who have always looked out for everyone who walks in their doors - I know that many of us are looking out for them at present.
8.07.2008
the beach is free
Trying to get my life together and back in order has completely sidetracked my concentration and dedication to this blog. I've been busy working on resumes and interviewing and looking at apartments and hanging out in Brooklyn and kissing tattooed boys and trying to stay away from townie boy and letting my face heal and trying to not be a drunk mess and going to the beach and running in nature trails and cranking the AC.
I'm focusing out getting out, not so much away from, but out of here. I will never be able to get away, no matter how hard I try. I can, however, get out. Perhaps thats the lesson i'm slowly learning about this crazy place, my hometown. You don't get to choose your hometown, you only get to choose to leave. And perhaps thats not so bad. It will always be here.
I'm starting to feel like I wasted this summer by being wasted. Come winter, wherever I may be, I know I will be mad at myself for being a night owl and not enjoying my time here to the fullest. I came back here to get my life in order, and heal after a horrible heartbreak. Part of that, or at least for me, is being completely self-destructive. I understand that. Now, i'm at the point to enjoy MYSELF. Enjoy being ALONE. Enjoy Long Island. It's a vacation paradise for a reason. I'm pulling out of here to win.
I'm focusing out getting out, not so much away from, but out of here. I will never be able to get away, no matter how hard I try. I can, however, get out. Perhaps thats the lesson i'm slowly learning about this crazy place, my hometown. You don't get to choose your hometown, you only get to choose to leave. And perhaps thats not so bad. It will always be here.
I'm starting to feel like I wasted this summer by being wasted. Come winter, wherever I may be, I know I will be mad at myself for being a night owl and not enjoying my time here to the fullest. I came back here to get my life in order, and heal after a horrible heartbreak. Part of that, or at least for me, is being completely self-destructive. I understand that. Now, i'm at the point to enjoy MYSELF. Enjoy being ALONE. Enjoy Long Island. It's a vacation paradise for a reason. I'm pulling out of here to win.
7.14.2008
if she wants to dance and drink all night then there’s no one that can stop her
This past weekend, an aquaintance was in town for work, so I played tour guide and we headed out to the Drift. Typical stereotypical Hamptons bullshit - which is turning into the usual for me. However, Saturday was different. Instead of being immersed in a high school reunion, and drinking myself stupid, I was showing this friend my side of the Hamptons. Coming from Brooklyn, it was certainly different than what he was used to (and, me, in a way) - and I felt like I was seeing this crazy, nutty island through new eyes. People made their jokes - I guess seeing a guy with full sleeves, a pompadour and a tight white tee was as hilarious to them as it was for him to see all the "Chads" in their popped collars.
When the bar closed, and the sun was coming up over the ocean, we ran into the ocean and swam, letting the sandy, salty water attempt to wash the booze and grime from us. Standing there, in the water, still completely loaded, I saw just how gorgeous it really is out here. When you strip it all down (both literally and figuratively) it's breathtakingly beautiful. If everyone who is out here, local or not, can just see the beauty and simplicity of the beach, and the community, without pretension or competition, i'm confident it will remain a peaceful, relaxing town. Then again, I think it's too late for that.
When the bar closed, and the sun was coming up over the ocean, we ran into the ocean and swam, letting the sandy, salty water attempt to wash the booze and grime from us. Standing there, in the water, still completely loaded, I saw just how gorgeous it really is out here. When you strip it all down (both literally and figuratively) it's breathtakingly beautiful. If everyone who is out here, local or not, can just see the beauty and simplicity of the beach, and the community, without pretension or competition, i'm confident it will remain a peaceful, relaxing town. Then again, I think it's too late for that.
7.01.2008
the story of the hurricane
Maybe there is a reason there are High School reunions every ten, twenty, thirty years ... and then they taper off as everyone moves on with their "real" lives. Don't get me wrong, I adore my childhood friends - they have seen me as the kid who fearlessly rode her sled over the cement at the sump, they have seen me as the wild child at beach parties drunk on stolen gin, and they are the people I really have some of my fondest memories with. However, when is the fact that you spent the first 18 years of your life with people not enough?
I like to think of myself as the elusive, mysterious one. The one who got out of town and never came back. Obviously, that's not happening. I'm stuck here until the end of the summer (if not longer the way things are looking). When I was away, other than a short "hi" message on myspace, or a meetup at a holiday or funeral, I had no contact with most of the people I now see on a daily basis. And, honestly, that was okay. You can love people and not see them - you can love people and not talk to them. (Hey, check out my most recent ex! Zing!) It just was, as we found ourselves, we found and created our own lives. Mine was made up of sweet southern dive bars, cheap beer, and loud music. Theirs was made of all the things our lives were like in High School.
It's nice to come home, to feel a part of something. This will always be home, and we will always have our childhoods to cling to. Besides from a select few (I think I can count two, maybe three) there's nothing left. There's nothing to base a real, grownup friendship with. Sure, we go out drinking together, and they hook me up at their bars, and we share cabs home. It's great. But at this point, I feel like the vacations over, and again, it's time for me to leave this sweet/horrible place and move somewhere I can be me - not the person I was growing up. I'm different now, i'm more bitter, less crazy, more cynical, less hilarious. That's okay, that's growing up. I'm just sorry if I dissapointed anyone when I came back a bitter, jaded, tattooed wanna be redneck.
I like to think of myself as the elusive, mysterious one. The one who got out of town and never came back. Obviously, that's not happening. I'm stuck here until the end of the summer (if not longer the way things are looking). When I was away, other than a short "hi" message on myspace, or a meetup at a holiday or funeral, I had no contact with most of the people I now see on a daily basis. And, honestly, that was okay. You can love people and not see them - you can love people and not talk to them. (Hey, check out my most recent ex! Zing!) It just was, as we found ourselves, we found and created our own lives. Mine was made up of sweet southern dive bars, cheap beer, and loud music. Theirs was made of all the things our lives were like in High School.
It's nice to come home, to feel a part of something. This will always be home, and we will always have our childhoods to cling to. Besides from a select few (I think I can count two, maybe three) there's nothing left. There's nothing to base a real, grownup friendship with. Sure, we go out drinking together, and they hook me up at their bars, and we share cabs home. It's great. But at this point, I feel like the vacations over, and again, it's time for me to leave this sweet/horrible place and move somewhere I can be me - not the person I was growing up. I'm different now, i'm more bitter, less crazy, more cynical, less hilarious. That's okay, that's growing up. I'm just sorry if I dissapointed anyone when I came back a bitter, jaded, tattooed wanna be redneck.
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