I just thought of a Wadsworth quote; 'the best thing to do when it's raining is to let it rain'
I haven't blogged since August.
I was letting it rain.
Making it rain on these hos.
Not at all that last sentence though.
It is in fact raining cats and dawgs right meow in NYC.
My apartment is really good for rain observing because of my two bedroom windows. They face the church across the street.
On beautiful sunny mornings the first thing I see is the glow of the stained glass piece and usually a bird or two perched on the top lip of it.
But as of right now with the windows open I can hear the rain hit my fire escape. Its painted green and in the spring I will sit out there watering flowers. I realize that doesn't sound like me but I'm going to do it so just fuck off.
Sometimes I miss the Gypsy Den apartment but thats ridiculous because I spent 5 months a year sick in that place. Here my heat comes hissing out of the radiators and I have to open a window so I don't die of warmth. So I think I should stop romanticizing the past and accept I found a rad spot for myself.
Living alone is in fact in a word, lonely.
I talk out loud to myself a lot just like my mom does.
For the first time in my life I feel like I need a television.
So I bought one today.
The end of the summer was too craze to write honestly.
Trying to have a normal healthy relationship with a man is super intense. It's endless maintenance for me. I'm always checking myself before I say something too insane that will hint at how 'damaged goods' I am.
That may be an exaggeration, but in truth I have changed so much in the last year of my life. I have moments where I think I am the luckiest person to ever have lived. I'm funny and smart and super cute and I have great hair. My boif is a good listener and we actually have an amazing time together without boozing ourselves semi-unconscious. He cares about movies and bands and good appetizers.
My friends are doing their own shit but they put up with me changing everything about my life and I don't think they hate me yet. I think they still love me.
Now that I have a job again finally I feel like I can go out and meet them places and gossip over a drink or 6.
Not that it really matters because it's over but here's some things I haven't forgotten yet from September and October.
PS my birthday was fairly uninteresting so I don't even care to mention much about it. I got good presents though. And now I'm in my LATE 20s. So there's that. Maybe when I'm 30 I won't be such a fucking crybaby. Fingies crossed forever.
Just to tie up some loose ends, I finally got a picture of what I looked like just before destroying my arm and ruining my summer. Falling down stairs in this outfit isn't right.
Nikki Bowman our dear friend has been sent away by the evil king of American Apparel to go run stores in the middle of nowhere. We have spent the last month missing her. Pizza. Kittens. Cowboy boots. Giggling. Hugging. Its all Bowman oriented.
When I moved I couldn't sleep at my new place. I did a lot of this.
It's a happy thought most of the time.
I feel like I am talking about my insides when I talk about this so that's quite enough.
Chiara moved to Scotland or something crazy like that so this was the last time I saw her. I just had a dream last night that we were talking on the phone and for some reason she had this heavy New York accent. It made me wake up laughing.
In reality we have maybe talked on the phone 5 times in my life. She still had/has one of those 'original' phones like without internet access or 'apps'
And she never seems to check her email.
What an alien.
Shes great, I hope she comes back.
Tally Dead Dead came to see me on a whim twice in the last two months.
He makes me a kid. The most wild genius kid in the universe. He's my Carol.
(In reference to the movie adaptation Where The Wild Things Are: yes i am already utilizing this film as a pop culture parallel to my life)
I went to Atlantic City again for the third or fourth time this year. This time was for Steven's birthday. I had the greatest time. Dude in the globe cage is riding his motorcycle so fast you can't even see him in there.
The last thing we did was sit outside on the steps of the boardwalk. A girl started to throw up by us. She had just gotten engaged that day. Something about it was strangely charming. This story does not translate well.
It was a very exciting night though.
It's my greatest flashback of September.
My second greatest September night was Fever Ray at Webster Hall. I was accompanied by fellow live music nerds Liv and Crystal. If I try to describe it I won't do it justice. We stood up in the balcony and looked down through lasers and smoke. It was like if a bunch of Scandinavian people-eaters had a rain dance party with magical fireflies for lamplight deep in the ravers forest by the sea of mystery and intrigue. Then they made love to their instrument machines and tried to talk to robot god. In costume.
These photos are the worst.
As usual, I fail to operate any camera to get desired image.
That is Cocoa telling me to pet her head gently.
That is the most unfortunate looking teenager I have ever seen, hands down.
One of my few rowdy nights out of late.
I was inebriated by 11pm.
I blame it on the free gallery booze. I feel like its always trouble for me. Because when I'm not payin, I'm DRANKIN. Yes.
A. That's Alger with stars shaved into his head.
B. Thats a medical glove on Crystal's foot, used like a sock. It did not work out well for her.
I went to Maryland for a couple of nights.
Driving again is fun.
I found out that popular radio is awful generally.
But in St Micheals we found 107.1 THE DUCK, which I may have to go ahead and say....best station ever?
Steven slept a lot.
I tried crabcake something or other and had the weirdest childhood flashback of eating it sometime somewhere. It tasted like memory.
To follow are pictures of Steven. When two people go somewhere together, they simply take pictures of eachother, not with eachother. This is not good for blogging purposes because it makes me look as thought I am following around some dude documenting his day when really, there was just no third person to photograph these joint experiences. Imagine me in there doing the same things. Smiling/scowling. Then it won't seem so dumb.
Steven James reflective fireside moments.
City people look like assholes once out of the city.
When I look at this I think of Bluto. From Popeye. Only adorbs.
Opposite of adorbs.
Pretend lighthouse keeper 'sleeping'
Or just giving me daymares.
I wish he was being a crab for Halloween.
We ate yummy food and I remembered why people leave the city and sit in yards.
And perfectly, as I typed that Phil Collins came on shuffle.
That sort of sums everything up.
This morning I found an empty notebook with PM Dawn on the cover. Jeylan gave it to me a while back and I never used it.
I sat in my tiny bathroom with my cat and wrote in the first page. It felt like something I hadn't done in so long. I mean, I wasn't GOING to the bathroom, I was just sitting in there because it's conducive to some kind of open thought.
So thats that.
Documentation commences because observation and commentary is an inherent part of my little dust speck of life.
The people outside sound like Prada shoes, expensive cocktails and bad taste. I am not even looking at them out the window and I can hear the possibility of regrettable hookups and Saturday douchbaggery.
With that, I am going to continue listening to this man and dreaming of a future as great as his epic cornball songs.