Sayonara New York Shitty, I love you but I've got to go be thankful that I didn't crack my head open when I passed out this morning.
More on that later.
Thanksgiving really is the only holiday I can stomach to be honest.
Being thankful is really fantastic, I am a fan.
I am thankful for my beautiful intelligent loyal hardworking hilarious supportive ladyfriends.
I am thankful for my family of course.
I am thankful for my second chances.
I am thankful for my home, my gigantic (by nyc standard) cold dark cave. I feel so happy when I open the door and I see my cats waiting and a little Jesus nightlight glowing in the bathroom.
I am thankful for my health now more than ever because it seems the older you get, the more people you know get sick, or just up and die of some tragedy.
Enough of that.
Jesus Christ.
Anyway.
Back to fainting.
Its very gay, fainting.
Its sickening and its a weakness.
Its totally scary and weird and its the kind of thing I associate with drama queens, mental patients, and old Hollywood starlets.
PS I didn't swoon.
It wasn't pretty.
I fucking dropped like a grand piano off a 10 story building.
It was HORRIBLE.
But don't worry about me I am fine.
No blood.
No bruises.
Just a really frustrating tick in my mind. Whispering oh man. you hot hot mess. what is wrooooong with you
Its just a medical condition, some old school vasovagal fight or flight response.
But its making me feel like I must be a total basket case inside there.
Deep down in the personality waters.
This was not my first 'spell', I've had Tony Soprano syndrome for years now, its just that this time there was someone here to say "Oh my God are you ok?"
And I have to admit.
That was the worst part of the whole thing.
I've been outed.
So I'm going the distance and blogging the shit out of this shit.
I feel better already.
Went out to 'dinner' last night meaning I watched C.O. (Complicated One ... just trying to make my life easier) eat posh sushi and I drank about 5 beers.
I'm not afraid to eat.
I eat all the time.
I just happened to not be hungry at all.
I hate it when you're out and not eating and you have to wonder... do those people over there think I have an eating disorder???
I bet they did.
Fuck those people.
Anyway we sat by a little window with a pretty miniature tree outside.
It made me happy.
Another thing that made me happy:
C.O. and I had a creepy moment standing in the sort-of-rain both taking pictures of this supremely radical van. iPhone vs. Blackberry, mutual photo taking... iPhone wins.
I decided I should christen my new Thornburg dress last night.
Its lovely.
It merits ballet actually.
No I did not wear moccasins out in public with my beautiful new dress.
Anyway we got home and Dop was pissed.
Some firemen burst into our place like renegades claiming someone reported a fire.
Nope.
No fire.
What?
Yes.
The lady upstairs is so crazy that she reports fake fires just to create draaaamaaaa.
I am living in a nightmare sometimes.
Every single one of my friends is a photographer.
Why is that.
People drink beer and then think they are the first person to discover that photobooth is fun.
Oh hi, Shaman murderer Jesus scientist hunter dragon slayer people eater bigfoot hero magician cyclops.
I like your hat.
Don't worry I have those days.
Show of hands if you love Olivia Malone photography
I want to retake that picture only wearing this jacket.
My ebay wins are really killing it right now.
Not killing it?
Octopus man.
Also not killing it?
Waiting to pack until the last minute.
I fail.
Call me and remind me to bring my toofbrush
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