life through this, and you won't look back

I've been inspired by my good friend Bill to focus more on this blog. Bill, whom I actually dated for a hot second back in 2004, is one of the finest people I know, and I am happy we've remained close through these years. More often than not, I take a breakup and have smashed whatever's left to bits, leaving absolutely nothing. He is one of the few (I think 3!) guys i've dated, or hung out with, or however one chooses to define it, that i've maintained a friendship with. Currently, he is in Prague, and I am so proud of him for being so brave to just pack up and go, and follow life wherever it takes him. I wish I had his courage, his strength and his faith. His blog is amazing, and I hope it leads you to live your dreams as well. I've added a link to my "people" section, but you can also check it out here.

In going through yet another breakup, the first since I was thrown back into the pool of singledom after leaving Richmond, I find that it's not too hard this time around. Of course, it's terrible, well for a bit, at least. It sucks to connect with someone in a good way,in the best way and have fun (always fun, this last one was) and explore and love and just feel like the sun is yours only - and have it ripped away from you. However, I find myself doing the same cliche breakup things i've done in the past, and will probably have to do again in the future. Drink heavily? Check. Smoke heavily? Check. Hibernate with the blankets over my head? Check. Burst into tears in the grocery store? Check. I'm okay, i've done this before. Can't y ou tell?One thing that remains a constant, from the breakups in the past (3 in 4 years, 2 of which were live-in situations, ouch!) is the album that saves me every time. That album, Set Yourself On Fire, by Stars, is my Desmond Hume. My constant. Listen and love.

There's something about a breakup in New York City that's different from other places. Suddenly, the city that was your pearl, is now your pile of dog shit. The skies seem to be grey all the time, the other couples seem to be even more grotesquely adorable, and the streets seem cold and lonely. All the little places, "your" places, are no longer yours. The corner you kissed on while waiting for the light to change. The bar where you first held hands. The Indian restaurant you first felt your heart jump. The concert venue where you found a dark corner in the middle of the sold out set to make out. It's a city where there are millions of these places, to millions of people, and they remain reminders of a better time, and the people you were when you were there. Most of them I have tried to avoid, i've tried to seek out places where I feel anonymous, where I feel alright to be alone. However, the inevitable is there. The bar that was yours is stil lthere, and your friends still go there. The bathroom in that bar where you made out is still there, and they still do karaoke on Wednesdays. It's all still there. And, whether or not you wanted it to, life goes on. Feelings are fleeting, but places and people are forever. Unavoidable. So, you do what you always do to deal with it - pick yourself up by the bootstraps, and try as hard as you might to move on. The world is still there, and it is still yours.

goddamn, it was nice

Part of picking up the pieces and moving on from some not-so-cool times back down South, for me, was honestly moving on and making peace with (now) ghosts of the past. For me, I fell into something (someone) when I wasn't looking to, and was just getting content to being alone. Hell, it wasn't alone - it was me, and staying focused on my job and friends was all I needed.

Well, over the course of some months and the holidays, I felt the "lone wolf" strength I had slowly slipping away. I was scared, yeah, but what in life isn't scary? Regardless, I fell harder than I realized, and harder than I had expected to. Ever. Partly, I think it was old insecurities and ghosts that dredged up a neediness I hadn't had to deal with yet.

I just wasn't ready.

Last night, after making a quick exit after a much-needed conversation, I walked down Havemeyer, trembling and trying to not be the girl crying walking down the street. Until a darling (bless his heart) bum attempted to bum a cigarette from me. I was trembling, and just trying to get home before I lost my shit. Well, in my fluster, I must have made him feel very angry when I ignored him, and he began to call me a slut, a whore, a blonde witch, and the winner? A miserable, unlovable bitch.

Of course, that's what every girl wants to hear when she's on the brink of tears, and certainly feeling miserable and unloved. Of course, me being generally backwards with things most of the time, screamed back and scared the fuck out of the bum.

And you know what? It was okay. I didn't lose it when I got home, I didn't lose it when I, still trembling, bought some tallboys from the pervert at the bodega, and as sad as I am still today, i'm alright. I'll be okay.

So, thanks, New York. Thanks for being there. Thanks for the bums. No matter how miserable and unlovable I may be, I know there's been times that I have been considered lovable, and after a little bit of this mopey just got dumped girl shit, i'll be back. And then, Mr. Bum = you watch yourself, motherfucker. Don't let these tight pants fool you, i'm all heart.

bitches ain't shit

When did I become the girl who gets upset to only get late night calls?

When did I get upset to get blown off (or so it seems) on superbowl sunday, by a dude?

Sharks be circiln'.

one year.

I left Richmond a year ago tomorrow. It was the worst day of my life, so far. Too hard. I said goodbye forever to two people I loved and will never see again, and to a city that makes me ache. 

He didn't look back when I boarded my flight. I stopped looking back months ago, even though it was months too late. I hope he is well, or as well as he can be. I hope he knows he made me the person I am today, and without him, I wouldn't be where I am today. He also showed me how to love, and how to be strong and stoic and selfless and brave. So, thank you, Wade. Thank you. I owe you more than you will ever know.

I said good bye to my grandmother that afternoon. She passed away a few days later. I get my fight from her, my feisty from her, and my brutal honesty from her. We never were very close, and I often felt like she hated me, but in the past year, I feel like i've figured her out as i've figured out myself. We are more alike than either one of us would probably have liked to admit.  So, Cheers, Nan. I know she and pop are partying like it's 1945 somewhere. 

And Richmond. What can be said that I haven't already said about that lovely fucked up city? The city where the old bricks suck the life out of you, and the cobblestones rip your soul from your body. I have never loved a city the way I love you, and I have never hated something I love so much before at the same time. I'll be back someday. It's inevitable. I know and have lived the curse already. Stay safe. Stay cool. 

Losing seemingly everything I thought I had really wasn't terrible. If you told me a year ago where i'd be now, and that I would honestly, whole-heartedly be happy, id laugh in your face and beg for another shot of whiskey. I made it through just fine, and it truly (as cliche as it sounds) has made me a better person. I couldn't have made it this far without the love and support of my friends - both near and far. I love you. And I am who I am because of you.  

spur of the moment halloween tattoo

oh, lawdy, lawd, what was i thinking?

stay hungry. stay free. and do the best you can. 

sink or swim

Watching "Celebrity Rehab" this afternoon triggered memories of Tawny Kitaen doing cartwheels across the hood of exotic cars in the Whitesnake "Here I Go Again" video. Because of this song (which is pretty fucking badass), I was inspired to blawg. So, um, thanks Tawny. Hope that coke problem clears up.

I've been very content and settled lately. Getting back to Brooklyn was the best thing I could have done for myself. I've been seeing lots of old friends, people I adore, and reconnecting with some old aquaintances. Work is good - I am finally one of those freaks who loves her job. Who am I? I barely know anymore. 

This past week was CMJ, so there were lots of parties and concerts and cocktails consumed. I also ran into more old friends - it was great to have people truly excited and happy that i'm back. I didn't think I realized how much I missed New York, my New York, until I got back here to Brooklyn. I missed all the quirky New Yorkisms I missed (and forgot!) until I saw them again. Passing familiar faces and places and spending too much money on a can of PBR - I missed it all. 

I have been (blush, blush) spending a fair amount of time with a gentleman friend, a gentleman friend with a penchant for Hall and Oates karaoke, who makes me laugh, and who I still get excited about seeing his number pop up on my caller ID. This is a good thing, no? Taking things very slowly and not stressing about it is all I am capable of at present, and that seems to be working very nicely. 

I've been dropping pounds (and jean sizes, hooray!) like mad lately. Feeling good. Looking (dare I say) good. Happy to wear my boots, tight jeans and scarves. Ready for my birthday, next month, and for the first half of my 20's (and all the bullshit that came with) to be over, and this past crazy year to be over. I have an appointment in a few weeks for my present to myself. Not telling, but you can figure it out, i'm sure. This is a perfect time of year. Beautiful, gorgeous, mature, hopeful autumn in New York. 

Listen: Autumn in New York - Billie Holiday

It's easier to leave than to be left behind

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.