The Homecoming July 14, 2008
I broke my front tooth on that road. I splayed graffiti in that park. My mother expelled me from her uterus on THAT side of the tracks.
Late Sunday night, I found myself at the Quay with a half-bottle of gin. I was warm and optimistic and started a conversation with Anna, who I had an immediate connection with. I fell for her ability to be filter-less instantly. We bonded over our subdued depravity and lack of emotional openness - You can do that with strangers - Afterwards, we ended up at her place, in her bed, euphoric from a couple pops of Vicodin watching Pretty Woman (ha!), sharing the most fantastic conversation and falling easily to sleep…
Walking home this morning (even with the painkillers, I still have a problem sleeping in someone else’s bed) - crisp dawn, beautiful sunrise, the perfect soundtrack (Mykonos by Fleet Foxes on repeat) - I felt more like a Martian than ever. Yes, I grew up hopscotching these suburban streets, but was it really me?
Sydney? I’m a stranger here myself.
Longitude/Latitude June 24, 2008
Because my fried bean of a brain cannot properly express what is going on. Stops. And. Starts. I’m just going to type my jumbled mess here for prosperous-precipitous-posterity and care not for the nonsense, but rejoice-rejuice-reduce in the alliteration. I want control over my actions, I want meaning to my words. I’m completely out of touch with my body while my mind jumps from accusation to epiphany to vegetarian omelette recipe. I want ONE consistent thought process - flowing images that connect to each other like synapses and don’t change within the hour. INSPIRED one minute, BURNING the next. It is just so exhausting: the internal debates and dizzying dialogue that go on, and on, and on, en masse.
Cassius June 23, 2008
You! Me! Dancing! March 24, 2008
Williamsburg for the second time in as many days January 21, 2008
Some people show their love through flowers, champagne, love letters and poetry. I’ve done these things for a girl I adore - all this and more - and by more, I mean, for Stephanie, I go to BROOKLYN.
Yes, last night I planned to stay off the grid, stay in and watch Project Runway. I had the sniffles (care of Sarah) and I had the chills (because it was FECKIN’ cold). But alas, when the girl wants to play, we play. And for whatever reason, it always involves beer and balls.
But of course, before we set out from Grand St. to go drinking, we started drinking: A bottle and a half of wine with her delicate French roommate, a round of Blackjack with Sarah, a spin on Steph’s iTunes collection (Paul Simon’s Homeless? Who actually has this, but not Boy in the Bubble?), and an intense discussion on levitating cats.
We spent the rest of the evening with Doug and Sarah at Radegast and The Levee, but nothing beats kicking it with Stephanie. I heart her so much.
One day we plan to go to rehab together.
I think we should just be friends with sexual tension January 20, 2008
Why spread out pivotal points in ones life over a series of white knuckled moments when you can do it all in one night in the safety of a karaoke bar?
Steve and Kate, sorry I wasn’t there to see you guys get fired, maybe next time? Fo’ shizzle my dizzle.
Matthew, thank you so much for gallantly accepting my apology, I promise I’ll never ask you to get a boob job ever again.
Vinnie and Torrey, thanks for not leaving me on my lonesome at the Coming Out segment of the party. You both confirm my theory that homo IS the new hetero.
Sarah, happy thirtieth birthday honey, yes, you’re over the hill but I look forward to joining you there soon. Many thanks to you and Jameson for encouraging me to find my voice. Who knew I had it in me to sing a cheesy duet with you in front of all your family and friends? (Albeit in a Scottish brogue.) And while I have many things to be sorry about on Friday night, I can’t apologise enough for taking advantage of you on that dirty Brooklyn dancefloor over and over and over and over and and and… NEVER AGAIN.
My chunk, my chunk, my lovely lady lumps January 13, 2008
So this guy says it’s his birthday and offers Steph and I a round of shots to celebrate. We had just downed 4 shots of Jameson so I was weary but he says, “We can just do some chocolate cake shots”. Fine, I thought, seems harmless enough.
He comes back with Patron.
Craps. So I start my stretching, my labor breathing techniques, cracking my knuckles, rolling up my sleeves, loosening my belt, untying and retying my shoelaces…
We take the shot, I bite down hard on the scrawniest sliver of lemon, I chug a slug of beer…
Up comes back the beer, the lemon, the Patron, and the Jameson, plus chunks of something else…
AND HE STILL ASKED ME FOR MY NUMBER.
Notes from beneath a bicycle January 7, 2008
I don’t feel safe with him and I feel he always looks out for himself first and foremost. The lad has no sense of chivalry. So that’s it. It’s time for renewal. I need to stop playing with the kids.
By the same token, I’m no good for him either. Sure marching band practice was fun, but I’m no longer the immature brat I was last year. He should be getting high and drunk with the other frat kids.
I’m trying to clutch at what once was, but something has changed. ME. Happy Year Anew.
Two thousand and pigpen January 6, 2008
1. LCD Soundsystem - Sound of Silver
2. Battles - Mirrored
3. The Field - From Here We Go Sublime
4. Les Savy Fav - Let’s Stay Friends
5. PJ Harvey - White Chalk
6. Spoon - Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
7. John Vanderslice - Emerald City
8. Panda Bear - Person Pitch
9. Okkervil River - The Stage Names
10. Burial - Untrue
Joie de vivre January 5, 2008
Breakfast is about the fragrance of coffee and toast.
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