Memories / Staying Up Late / Staying In

I want to blog tonight (just got out of work at the old restaurant) and I was wondering what I would blog about. I was recalling times, on the sled of tonight's after-work-cigarette, down here when I would clock out, wait for everyone else to finish, head over to one of the neighborhood bars and have a few beers with my crew. Or, at least, what was left of the crew / the few remaining brave who would be willing to postpone their ride home for a few beers longer. 

I thought of how, for a moment in time, I would never have a plan but always "end up" somewhere. With someone. It was fun, of course! But holy hell, was I beat the next day. And I would wonder why I was so tired the next shift. Some of these nights I would stay out so late that I would arrive home finally at three in the morning! I am small and weak and am anything but a fighter: what business, exactly, do I have existing outside of safe walls after midnight? (None! That's what!)

At any rate: as I said in my previous blog; I am sure there are seasons to this kind of behavior. But for now I am happy that I have since reeled in the reigns. 

I was about to begin this thought process / blog tonight when I noticed a draft in my cache: 

 I'm going to start this now and hopefully finish it later tonight when I - after declining the temptation of a free shifty - arrive home at a very reasonable hour. 

I want more and more time in my apartment. Yes, the cold weather is a factor in this, but also: I just really like my home. It's a stupid little home and is lately a bit chilly for my liking (when it's not Bowser-Level hot. We'll get the hang of the heat this year, boys - just you wait!) but it is simple. I am in the least amount of trouble when I am minding my own business and let me tell you: I am never minding my own business more than when I am holed away in my silly little cave. 

I have also (FINALLY) come to terms with the fact that: I am paying to live here, in this space. Why am I not spending any bloody time in it? There's so much stuff to do in here. And it's nearly all things that I like to do, as I am the only person who curated the space. Writing, reading, journaling, blogging, yoga-ing, cooking, baking, organizing, dancing, painting, sewing, solving puzzles, calling my mother, drinking coffee, eating good food, listening to good music / podcasts / youtube channels... sleeping! It's all here! What exactly am I running from? Fun?? A satisfying / good time with one of my favorite people (me)??

I always like looking back at my instagram/snapchat memories and at my old blog entries to see what I have forgotten. I lack my mother's photo albums, filled categorically with happy faces of friends and family at countless houses, apartments, yards and finished basements. I have moved countless times. Lord knows my partners have come and gone. I am who I have to recall my history: if I do not remember it, no one will. If I ever forget the way the blue tape wrapped around the heater in the main room. The way my street looked like something from a Park Avenue in a hand-drawn Disney film; better than it ever had a right to. The way the flowers dried once I taped the concert bouquet to the wall, around my Frida puzzle art. 

This partial entry in blue: this is a precious little chunk of what I would like to remember. 

More later. My favorite person is speaking to me.

2024: Let's Gooooo

 Halfway through the second month of 2024 and I have yet to write a blog?? 

LET'S TAKE TO THE KEYS.

First of all: one of my first posts ever (could have been my first / I can't be bothered to check) was on taxes and how stressful I find them to be. Seven years later and I am proud to announce: nothing has changed. Well, not nothing. I now have to deal with things like filing taxes out of state and early 401k withdrawals. (I am currently awaiting a certain 401k document before I even attempt to complete taxes for last year. I am having a quiet panic attack.) 

On the beat of deadlines: I was able to dodge jury duty last year by the skin of my teeth. The way I was able to do so: I was told I have impending duties coming in April (happy brthday, ho) and I am moving shortly thereafter... so perhaps I will be able to change my address beforehand? Otherwise the timeline may give me indigestion. Also: what a shit way to end things. Hilarious, but shit. Also, also: I want to crunch some hours in before I scoot so I will be able to take as much time off to just enjoy the new space once I arrive. And I will not be able to do that if I have to take time off for jury duty. (Two fuckin years down here and I get slapped with Grand Juror #1. Unreal.)

I hope I remember to end my electric services beforehand... and I also hope that they actually end my services immediately / properly and that I don't get charged a buttload for no reason when I'm not even occupying the space. Ah, electric companies. They really got us by the balls, don't they? We'll see who's laughing when we learn to live without electricity!

On the moving beat: I have (with the help of a few lovely individuals) purged a bunch of STUFF that I have collected in my 7 month stay in this studio apartment. I had so much fun thrifting (the thrill of the hunt!) and renewing and repurposing and reconfiguring things and designing and curating... and I had a lot of lovely times living around all the aforementioned stuff, but it also felt good to let a bunch of it go. I am having a minimalist renaissance and I am loving every minute of it. I'm sure I'll get comfortable again and gain a bunch of stuff once more. Everything comes in cycles, right? Seasons. I have seasons of writing like crazy / not, reading / not... being a minimalist / not. It's the forever fight of: visually exciting vs. logically efficient. Duality is gorgeous, but tough. 

I am going to miss the friends I have made down here. I will miss the quick, casual looks / jokes / dances / fun idiocy and brilliant chats that only people who live in close proximity have. I will miss the fashions. The age ranges (and how not everyone here is 100 years old). The vegan restaurants / plethora of options everywhere, the cafes and fact that you can get a coffee just about anywhere. The giant book store and cool options at thrifts stores and second hand shops and vintage stores and even TJMaxx. The visually appealing neighborhoods to go on walks through. The gorgeous grocery stores. the fact that there are plant shops - not home depot! Not a gift shop with a plant or two! An actual plant SHOP. The brilliant food and drink / restaurant and bar scene will be thoroughly missed. 

However. 

Just because I don't live somewhere doesn't mean I cannot visit. And to quote Pale Honey: "This city was never mine". It was super cool to explore, once I finally felt comfortable enough to do so, but I do not necessarily belong here. I don't know that I believe in "belonging" in physical places / towns / cities etc. To quote Dave Matthews Band: "Turns out, not where, but who you're with that really matters". I have always thought that. Before I even met most of the incredible people I have met. 

Speaking of: I was thinking, before I "took to the keys" tonight, that I haven't blogged in a hot minute. And even when I did, maybe I wouldn't publish it. I started to wonder why. Especially since I have the space and time to write to my heart's content at the moment / have for a hot minute (at least 7 months!). To find out, I tried to find what purpose this blog served. Throughout the seven years (is seven my number, right now??), it's been a place I could count on to free-write. For free-thought. A place to ponder and philosophize. To have the conversations I couldn't have with others / I was missing in my life.

Ah. There it was. 

I know we will all continue to grow and our needs will flow into something else, but at this point in time: I have been fortunate enough to meet and connect with a collection of dazzling thinkers and lovers. The people I have been waiting for to have these conversations with. I was only missing a piece (a tall piece, at over six feet tall) for a bit, and now I've regained stasis. Better than stasis - all of us have grown and done. We've gone and lived. And tried and learned. I am incredibly proud of us and staggeringly thankful for them. 

I would like to keep blogging whenever possible (if for no other reason than to have dependable support throughout tax season). And I'm sure I'll hit another "season" with it. For now, I am simply reveling in the Good surrounding me. (Which, now, consists of considerably less STUFF.)

I Dunno, Man. Just Wanna Type.

 Tomorrow is December 2023 and I am SO READY.

My tarot card that I pulled for this month (last year) was The Chariot. (Way to end the year on a banger, dude.) This is the card that urges you to be active / not passive, it is a sign of encouragement to assert yourself, have courage and be disciplined. 

...It also said something about possible travel via ground... But we'll just ignore that part. (When am I not travelling on the ground? Well... right now, I suppose.)

Incidentally, this is precisely the attitude I am bringing into December. I have carefully and - dare I say - skillfully curated a mighty cozy home. I have surrounded myself with beauty / things that are good for my brain / things to create / things to learn and read / healthy, delicious food and sweet hygge. I am ready to bundle up, hunker down and stay inside. I will focus on not running myself into the ground. I will do wonderful work for myself and when I do not: I will relax. (When did it get so difficult to stay inside?) I am filled with intention and it feels like lightning in my body. 

(No, wait... that's my sciatica...)

In January, once this December month is over, it will still be cold. It will still be slow at the restaurant. I will still be too far away from friend / family snuggles. But! It will be a new year. I will thank 2023 for its good and thank myself and my loved ones for helping me survive the bad. And learn from it. 

I have never been into "New Year's Resolutions" because I believe that if a person would like something to change, they should start working on that immediately / not make excuses / not wait around for the clock to run out. (Diet starts tomorrow!) But I am finding it exciting to look forward to a new year. (Also: I find separating life by months / years makes it infinitely less overwhelming and stressful.)

I will likely spend this New Year's Eve alone - for the very first time in my adult life!!! And I am looking forward to it. If I hear the Siren's Song, I may go under, but I really hope I'm able to stay inside my weird little home. Listen to weird little songs. drink and eat and do a 13-card pull for 2024. 

Recalling Bad Behavior

I am listening to / watching some psyche stuff and having revelations. 

I was with someone not long ago that had so many unhealthy (at least unhealthy for me) traits that are being called out in these videos / podcasts and it is always so wild / refreshing / attention-calling when this happens. 

1.    constantly needing to be in the know about everything (everything)

2.    hating the feeling of "being the/a bad person" whilst not wanting to do / not doing the thing that would make them the normal person -or- good person. Even if the thing is obvious/simple helping.

3.    can't ask them "why". because this is a question to understand their motive(s). (they can't answer it / they feel ashamed when faced with it - and shame is the most prevalent feeling to them - and/or they don't want to be held accountable.)

4.    although they wanna know everything, they can't handle anything. you can't tell them good news (this welcomes skepticism upon you / your news / being dismissive) and you can't tell them bad news (they will make it about them / turn into a starlet of tragedy). 

5.    them skewing everything you say

6.    them getting so much worse when they drink (I understand this one is true for a lot of different types of people from lots of different backgrounds - crazy that shit is still legal.)

7.    extremely manipulative, in general

8.    martyrdom like you wouldn't believe. 

9.     needing to / putting all of their fight and drive and energy into their outer appearance / the narrative they have created (falsely) for themselves. This will absolutely stop them from being anywhere near genuine. Probably ever. (Why would they be genuine when they can live in this make-believe? Especially with a herd of sheep who won't pick up on the truth?)

10.    they heard you the whole time - this will be proven by the way they scramble and backtrack / go back to square one and begin to love-bomb / actually bring up what you were saying / certain points you have made the entire time or way back in the beginning and try like hell to convince you that NOW they will try. Or NOW they are able to do it because "wow, [they] never saw it that way" / they had an epiphany. In hopes to drag you back in. 

You can't share anything with these people. What the hell is the point? I have never wanted a romantic relationship less. It has never seemed less attractive. I am over these people / this behavior / this useless way of spending time. Getting exhausted and even sick from it. I have said it for years and my mother has said it before me: 
    a.    just because I can handle it doesn't mean I should have to.
    b.    why does it take me killing myself to get a point across?

It shouldn't. And for many people (who I haven't dated!) in my life - it absolutely will never take me killing myself to get the point across. To be considered. To be treated with respect.

I know the chance of me attracting someone like this again must be terribly high (unless I have simply gotten the majority out of the way on my first half of the dating scene), but I truly hope I never have to deal with this kind of thing again. The good news is: Now that I am older / smarter / wiser / calmer / infinitely more experienced in all of it, I at least know that my chances of recognition and escape are climbing. 

Sunday the 15th

 Much along the lines of the previous post regarding being at work while the system is down / while experiencing a blackout: I am currently at a favorite local bar (the only one down here I will purposefully go to to get some writing done) during the slowest night I have ever witnessed. Surely one of the slowest the drink-masters behind the bar have. To enhance the mood: it is October, dark, rainy and dreary outside. And we have only just survived our second Friday the 13th of the year. It would be too spooky to leave the comfort and safety of one's comforter, had the undeniable feeling of badassery not been swinging thick in the air. 

What is this feeling? I imagine there is a German term for it that - should you be able to pronounce it - would describe this perfectly and essentially. Leaving nothing to be craved or forgotten by the turn of the last syllable. It is akin to (but better than, in my opinion) catching the matinee on a Tuesday. Just enough of a ticket line so you can properly ponder which flick to see. You get into the theater and find your seat; there's no one else there. You think 'Surely before the film starts there will be more bodies in seats'. And before your very eyes, the film starts and - behold! No additional bodies. It's just you! You have the theater "to yourself".

We love this feeling, we adore it; we pine for it. And yet (not to paraphrase Bukowski, of all people) we find it so daunting, at times, to be alone. We find it eerie / unsettling / unfortunate and unfavorable. Especially during times when we should expect to certainly not be alone. But there are these specific settings and layouts where the opposite can be the result. And it's not quite the same as it would be having an amusement park to one's self. It's more simple and whole / wholesome than that. Less selfish. More cozy. More... just the trendy / modern side of hygge, perhaps. 

It has an exciting side to it initially, along with the odd, because it is so unusual. An unexpected change. And furthermore / more specifically because it is a change you could not / did not control. (That's always exciting.) And then there's more comfort-magic to it when the rest sinks in: everything is a bit calmer, a bit quieter, a bit less chaotic. Everything is still in working order. There are still (maybe only just) enough people to keep everything running / smoothly. You're not missing out on anything. You can still see your film. You can still get your drink / your snacks. It's just a little bit better. Everyone who you want to be there is there and no one you don't. I think that's what it is. It's the stuff that makes places in the outside world feel a little more like they are simply extensions of your own living room. 

(Side note: I do not feel this way in a restaurant if I am the only one there. What is this phenomenon? What is the separation between the bar and the restaurant? Why does the restaurant feel like a stiff-backed wooden Medieval church pew in comparison to the bar?)

Anyfuckingway. 

I currently find myself in a favorite local bar, with my laptop, mostly alone on this eerie night and I am loving every minute of it. I feel like it is the perfect set up for a really good film with plenty of intriguing twists and turns. Something like Identity, but preferably much less menacing. No deaths, preferably. Or if there absolutely has to be: perhaps only off-screen. 

I never want this coziness to end. But then again: I guess that's part of what makes it so special. 

**this is the most ideal writing setting for me: a bar that is familiar and safe, not too crowded so I don't feel like I have to watch my back / my drink / my electronics. Still enough strange to make noise in the background so I don't feel anyone's eyes on me / don't feel as though I am the main attraction / main character / anyone to notice. A thing of beauty, tonight.**

October 2023 (a dramatic reading)

Late September, I wrote a private blog for myself stating that I didn't want this year to be over / I wasn't ready for it to end. This year has been another doozy (I think that's just how they're going to go from now on). But it had also been Great. I looked back on my year-at-a-glance tarot pull from 2023 and smiled as I recounted all of the good that has happened / that I have been able to accomplish / create / experience. 

Before even realizing that this was the second of a new month (I typically have Sat / Sun / Mondays off from work, so I get a bit out-of-sorts), it hit me: I was ready. I am ready. Because although I may not be ready to "let this one go", I am certainly ready - no, anxious - to see what lies ahead. I have had time to comfort myself and get comfortable with my "new self". I want great things for her. I miss her and have a great hunger to get better acquainted with her. 

I want her to work hard at the things she wants to and support her when she needs time to simply consume and get inspired. I want to help her find time to write and read and learn and grow. 

Surely I will look back at this entry with disdainful, wet eyes if tragedy is to strike in 2024, but if it was going to happen, it was going to happen. I know that I do not wish horrors on anyone, including myself. And I have gotten to a point with my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder where I can admit that being excited / hoping for one thing does not have any affect on what other / typically awful things happen within the interim. 

I have had much synchronicity as of late (especially within the last 30 days) and I think I have come to terms with the fact that: as long as I do my best and have my best intentions, I will (even very eventually) be lead to where I need to be. There will be an imperative thought that I would have done well to focus on... that will - at first - be all too fleeting. And later, as I casually play the latest podcast or video while cooking dinner, my mind will hear a familiar piece of that thought and be able to call it out / focus / re-focus onto it and allow me some grace. It will allow me another opportunity to sit with the imperative idea / ponder on it. Like "red car syndrome", but in a lovely way. Like "OCD guilt/superstition syndrome", but it's actually helpful and real. I think our minds have a way of attracting what we need. In the same way they say our feet will point in the direction of where we would like to go. Like how it feels when you are young and you swear you woke up right before the loud clanging of pots and pans downstairs. You didn't. Your mind is simply incredible and very much at work when you are not. It assigned the sound to the pots and pans by the time you woke up. 

That was rambly and filled with similes, but I think I will quite enjoy coming back to this one and reading it in a couple of months/years. 

Perhaps old me would not be ready for this year to end and that would be fine. I am quite done talking shit about her - I love her very much and am very proud of her. The "new me" is incredible and ready to face new things. Here we go into the unknown.  

Living on My Own

 Is the secret to surviving panic simply living on one's own?

I have never felt so incredibly calm / at peace / confident about impending winter. We will see how it goes in real-time, but honestly it's just nice feeling this way. On my own, I am not always peaceful, but I certainly extend the amount I am able to be at peace. It's insane how much easier things are when I am living on my own. Aside from those two years I lived with Bff, I truly don't know why I ever did it. Living with others, I mean. Oh, yes; the whole financial thing / insecure / afraid to live on my own thing. Well, anyway.

With the way things have been going in this world, I am starting to feel as though living on one's own may simply soon be a thing of the past. Not everyone will be able to do so. And so: I am even more thankful for the opportunity. Not everyone has an E to be bffs with / live with in perfect harmony. Perhaps I needed to come down here to blaze the trail and to give E and I both the opportunity to peacefully live on our own. To truly know what it is like. Not because your roommate fucked you over and left. Not because you got kicked out of the place you actually wanted to stay in. Nothing violent. Just our decisions that we made. Perhaps we will live together again at some point in the future and perhaps we will not. But I will say this: I could not be more pleased to know that neither of us will feel we missed out / feel resentment / be left wondering what "it would've been like". (Perhaps, still: not everything has meaning. But perhaps.)

Thinking back: there were quite a few years where I was convinced I would never live on my own. Then I didn't want to, for a slew of reasons. Whether it be due to fear or romance. Or, rather, my personal rushing of the social construct of "settling down". (I figured: I had the hard work / job thing down... what more did one NEED for a successful, adult relationship??) And although I may not be in "NYC", I am still in NY. In a high-up apartment, living very much on my own. Writing. Which is exactly what I fantasized about, back in the day. 

*Was pulled away from this - don't think I was done, but it's a bit late now. Going to leave it as is / maybe come back to it at another time and edit*