Quote of the Day

"Time to treat yourself to a new pair of Chucks, kid."

-My dental hygienist upon seeing my blood and paint-stained sneakers

Bless This Mess

I have been awake since six AM.

I do not believe my body knows what is best for me, I do not believe that it takes care of itself. If this were true in any way, why would I have woken up and not been able to continue sleeping? Why would I be watching and re-watching Breaking Bad while it's still dark out?

I think I have anxiety. I'm not..sure what that means. It means that when I'm on a plane and it hits a patch of turbulence, I finally feel at ease. Because when my chest seizes up, it is finally justified. This is not easy to admit. This is, in fact, very difficult. To feel like your mind is unraveling for reasons unseen. To feel as if you can't trust your emotions (I have found this to be particularly true, I have never, ever been able to trust my emotions, they always have led me to histrionics, have always led me astray, they are figments of imagination and not kernels of truth).

It's raining this morning. I used to sleep best when it rained. This might have been before my dad got sick. Before I was consumed by writing. Before when I was careless, young, my concerns were ridiculous to me now. I'm not sure what my concerns are now, but they seem less ridiculous. They seem to need more concern. I painted a portrait I really liked recently. I could tell the model wanted it. He kept looking at it, commenting on it, smiling at me. Maybe he was trying to pick me up but I don't think that was it. I rarely think that is it any more, and it means nothing more than it doesn't register on me at this time. I am on some sort of strike. A romantic strike. I refuse to believe anyone would want to be with anyone, let alone me. But, back to this portrait. It's oil and my teacher says it's the best one I've ever done in her class. It finally shows the light. I squinted until it was all blurry and I only painted the light parts. I left the dark alone. When I was done the model talked to me, he smiled at me. At another point I would have liked to talk back to him, but not really now.

The paint was wet and it got on my hands. I could tell he wanted something from me, when people do, and they almost always do, they can never keep it a secret, can they? Maybe the painting, maybe a conversation. It was all I could do to smile politely. He wanted something, sure. Something I had. But I wasn't going to give it up, because sometimes I think we all feel we have so little. Happiness is finite, perhaps, we hold on to what we're able to. He kept grinning and I packed up.

I thanked him and went on my way.

Quote of the Day

Then there is the other secret. There isn't any symbolysm (misspelled). The sea is the sea. The old man is an old man. The boy is a boy and the fish is a fish. The shark are all sharks no better and no worse. All the symbolism that people say is shit. What goes beyond is what you see beyond what you know.

-Ernest Hemingway, 1952

I Left My Heart in San Francisco...Figuratively Speaking

Well, you were right, it was incredibly beautiful and amazing! It was like a big Brooklyn on the beach. It was spitting rain and the waves were crashing, everything was like a green jewel shot through with gray. It was incredibly romantic. And I was alone.

There was a grown-up's BBQ, an awkward glass of wine, laughing around the grill.

There was a crashing on a couch, sharing of playlists, shouting at the T.V. as we waited for the clouds to clear.

There was the hours spent with my second love, the first person I thought I'd marry, and the cold ocean between us. I thought of another life, the one I missed, could I, would I ever reclaim it? He is the only, and I mean only, friend I have in the area. And he. Is. Not. A. Friend.

At best we are neutral, are we? I wondered if he had changed and then he told me, as he reached finally for his ever-buzzing phone, that I needed to be quiet. That he had lied to his current girlfriend and I was his friend "Matt" visiting from out of town. She sounded happy on the other line, trusting. A false happiness. I know it well. That's when I stopped wondering if he had changed.

I walked around alone, had coffee by myself, jittery and with nothing to do, thumbing through the local newspaper, mentally circling all those things I would not, could not do. I was leaving in mere hours and I had done everything I could do in the time allotted. I had met new friends haphazardly, just by trying on a dress, we had been out all night, dancing in a circle, they had already called me. "Move here!" They urged. "We can see you in San Francisco."

I laughed, "You don't even know me!"

"Sure we do, why do we have to know you any more than this, we can tell."

I missed them as soon as I said goodbye. My ride to the airport was a friend in trouble, she and I do know each other and know it well, but she will have moved away by the time I arrive.

Am I running to something, or am I running away?

I got a new job this week. They will pay for 80% of my tuition if I stay in NYC. I got into three schools in California. My ex boyfriend is in California.

I got waitlisted at three schools in New York. My ex boyfriend is in New York. I love them both, want to be near them both, and dually want to be so far away, want to be alone.

Be alone at home, or somewhere all together new? Experience home like I never have, with the perfect job and finally have money and save for a year and then go out to San Francisco, when I'm an inch closer to knowing who I am, when my head is clear, when I've had one more year to work on both my novels, to finish art school once and for all, to write unencumbered?

Or give up the new job, the NY connections and my beautiful apartment and get another roommate, learn how to drive a car again (this is no small feat), and go immediately into debt?

I know, I know, I wanted so badly to go to school. But I want so badly to move with someone. Not that I can't do it alone, I just don't know if I'm quite ready. It's so fun to be single in Brooklyn, it's so comforting. I write instead of go out and I do a good job during the day and I go to the gym and I feel monastic even. I am full of indecision, as always. I could defer and work here until December and then go for a six month backpacking trip. I could.

When you're alone, you can do anything...

Lots to think about today...

Quote of the Day

Girl: I've got a thing for a drummer who looks like an Alaskan lesbian and I can't tell from his emails if he's asking me out.

Boy: That should be the name of the new LCD Soundsystem album or something.

HA!

School Update A Billion And Two

Waitlisted at Columbia!

Again, the waitlist queen strikes again...

That's waitlisted at all the NY schools: Columbia, NYU, Brooklyn College

In at: San Fran State and University of San Francisco

Heading to the home stretch now...go with the San Fran Schools or wait it out for my one true love, Brooklyn College?

Visiting San Fran the city (for the first time) next weekend. If I fall in love then maaaaaybe.

No clue what to do. But feeling pretty darn awesome because the superfancy magazine I work for asked me to stay on full-time for enough money that would allow me to quit all my other freelance jobs and do all my writing on my books instead as I prepare for school. AND work ends at 6 unlike all other jobs that keep going on at 1 am on a Tuesday.

Lots of things to think about today...