Oh sweet tree

Last night was a bizarre girls' night out that included jess, a drunk
andrea and a random punk girl. We went to wmsburg, which I'm ashamed
to admit I'm kinda falling in love with.
It was a good (if early) night, and on my way home I was on the L with
Kristen Schaal, fuck yes.
At like 3 am a drunken lesbian and her friend scared the shit out of
me by crawling into my bed, and it was so much like 2003 that I
thought I was dreaming. (I wasn't)

tree sellers

there's always a silver (or funny) lining:

on the way home from moping downtown, L and I make several stops:

1. the dollar store, where "they say you should watch out for your valuables, and I kinda believe it."

2. the apple store, in search of a certain David Simpson, whom no one has ever heard of (though I swear he exists)

3. rite aid- THEY DO NOT SELL GLITTER.

4. the christmas tree guys on the corner, with whom i immediately make friends. their names are olivier and gabe, they are only here for the month from Montreal and they are taking shifts sleeping in a van parked on the corner. they try to sell us two trees and ask if they can use our shower. of course we say yes. L says to me, "this is why I love you, because you meet the guys who sell christmas trees and get their whole life stories."

No one belongs here more that you

I clearly have a lot on my mind today!

My recent bad habits mean that I've now lost enough weight that all of
my clothes just slightly don't fit; not enough to justify buying new
ones, but more than enough to be annoying.

I'm exploring TriBeCa on what feels like the most still and quiet
Saturday evening that has ever happened. Maybe it's just the
neighborhood?
I walk past a diner and a busboy smiles and waves at me through the
glass, like I'm his friend, and I smile and wave back because that's
exactly the kind of random shit I love to do.

Espresso and Miranda July at a nice cafe on Greenwich, then back out
into a night that will most surely involve dancing.

Taking heartache with hard work

The only good thing about having to go to work so early in the cold is
that there are cheese grits and espresso waiting for me when I get
there.

Last night was Beaujolais at hicks st, followed by Guiness at abilene.
It was good to see A and swap stories of homesickness. He delivered a
fabulous birthday present all the way from Austin, which I love and
can't wait to hang up at home.

Tonight I have vague plans with andrea, k and pnb, who are quite
unexpectedly becoming much-loved friends.

I've been thinking a lot about that concept lately: how when you meet
someone, you never know what they are going to end up meaning to you.
You could casually be introduced to someone at a show only to have
that person later become your best friend.

It's fascinating, and lovely, to later find out what the important
days are.

The match of the century: absence vs. thin air

Ohhh, 27. Dinner with friends, shots of whisky at king's head tavern,
glasses (and door frames) broken at beauty bar. Questionable decisions
were made, and not just by me. S leans close while dancing and says
"if this is gonna continue, you have to accept the fact that I'm tall"
and confuses me all night.
Thanksgiving was made up of a giant hangover... It felt kind of sad to
not be cooking a fantastic meal for the first time in four years, but
maybe I needed the break. Ash invited me to family dinner at chestnut,
and as much as I wanted to go, I couldn't make it.
Work has been good, and I have a lot going on in the coming weeks. On
my way to Brooklyn now for what will surely be good times. The only
thing that would make this week more rock-and-roll is if there were
actual drugs involved!

My two pieces of advice for life are:
1. Never send naked pictures of yourself to ANYONE
and
2. Always have a plan B.

My plan B frequently involves going to brooklyn. Maybe I should start
making it plan A!

Feeling good

I wonder exactly how many times s. Meyer listened to "feeling good" by
muse while writing twilight.

Speaking of, I'm turning 27 in an epic way... Started the day off with
radiohead and mimosas, now on my way to see movie of aforementioned
book.

So when I moved to Austin, I took great pride and comfort in the
Capitol, for whatever reason. I spent many a lonely and sick night
sitting in it's shadow, and it always made me feel better. It never
let me down.
In new york, a city of countless beautiful buildings and famous
landmarks, that hole is filled for me by the Flatiron building. More
than the Empire State building, more than the Chrysler building, the
Flatiron says to me "it's gonna be ok, because you are here, and you
are home."
Luckily I work in lower midtown (or upper downtown, as my boss likes
to call it) and get to walk past it twice a day. Never gets old.

I'm sitting in Madison square park right now, underneath a foggy,
misty sky. There is some kind of weird light art thing going on, and
it's just kind of gorgeous and autumn all around.

In case my earlier posts weren't a clue, someone I considered a good
friend took advantage of me in the worst possible way, and now I have
that pain and turmoil to deal with on top of everything else. The
repercussions of this have yet to be fully realized, and with each
passing day things seem to get more and more fucked up.

Even now, though, at the very worst and hardest time of my life since
F, I can feel the city humming within me; slowly, methodically
stitching me up.

Law of the Universe #16

If you draw a skull and crossbones on your hand and fall asleep, you
will wake up with a skull and crossbones on your face.
Then you will walk down to the post office and wonder why everyone is
staring at you.

I fell apart. It was NY that swept me up, put me back together.
The past week has been dizzying; cupcakes and good times in
Williamsburg, the first real sign of autumn, long walks around the
village, falling asleep on the couch, new friends, etc etc.
Oh city, I'm so sorry I doubted you, if even for a second.

Law #16

When having a tough time in life, go to a fabulous party.