Rainy MF Sunday

The first whiff of summer's end descended upon New York City this weekend. At once a relief and a letdown. It was fun to wear a sweatshirt for a few hours, but I would have rather gone to the beach.
Today was the slowest day I've had in ages. It was a rainy gray drizzly mess. And I didn't do one useful thing. I drank beer and watched DVDs with Jane. All the while the roil of anxiety was constant in my stomach and my chest.

Saturday was spent on errands. Friday night I was alone. Utterly. Last night's party was something to pass the time. I hate unfun.

I cried over A today. For the first time in a while. The weight of the loss hit me like a dead weight. Knocked out my wind. Shook my whole body. I couldn't stop gasping, I couldn't keep breathing. Is it my current hormone imbalance? The rain? The old card I found? The pictures I was sorting? The pain gave me whiplash.

And then V. Who I've been missing. Truly.
Especially the last few days. Only a third of the way through.

I really must toughen up.

It's your own responsibility to make yourself understood

Why can't everyone take this statement to heart?
It would solve so much confusion in interpersonal relating.
Say what you mean!
Don't be passive aggressive!
Don't make me figure you out!
Tell me what you want me to know! What you want to "get"!
If you want to play games, hire someone to play with you!
A therapist perhaps? A psychiatrist? They get paid to figure you out.

It is not fair to judge how good of a friend someone is by how much of you they figure out. I don't have time to sit and think about what makes you tick everytime we are together. That's not what friends do. They enjoy each other. Not everything should have to be intense. Having fun, and laughing doesn't mean fluff. It means enjoyment. How are friends defined these days?

Back to being lonely.
I'm going to get better at it though. Until it doesn't mean lonely, but independent. And free.

3 weeks sounds so long. And it is, really.
Why do I thrive on intensity? Over-the-topness. Irrationality.

I hate to be bored. Safe. Or responsible. I need my blood to be rushing. I'm addicted to the butterflies in my stomach. They fill the heavy hollow pit that is there otherwise.

I'm not sad. Not too anxious. But not calm. And that's what I want to be. Serene. Comfortable, mostly.

I am happy to be surrounded by all of these books. Especially since they have already been read. They seem more real that way. I always prefer libraries to Barnes and Noble. I like dust. I love imperfection. And over use. And knowing someone else has absorbed the same exact information, down to dog-eared page number 37 and the ink mark on page 189.

It's funny how others can invent your persona for you. Meeting so many new people has resulted in a collective idea of who I am that may or may not be enough of the real me. If that makes sense.

Bookworm.
Librarian.
Do-gooder volunteer (ha)
Overly responsible. (ironicly)
Midwestern farm girl.
Teaser of lesbians.
White girl with blue eyes.
Wiggly.
Beach bum.
Ex-rockstar. (?)
Writer.

It's so funny how people mold you into what they want you to be so quickly. Much faster than you can let them know who you really are. It can end in disapointment so easily.

:-)

Today I feel really happy.
Just straight up content.

Happy hour after work.
PR party at T's house.
V misses me after one day, so I am not totally psycho.
Skipping work to hit Rockaway tomorrow.
Then friends DJ-ing in the LES.

Just straight up fun for 48 hours.

I Heart Jews

Last night I attended my first Jewish wedding. It sure does make Christians seem boring. Which, compared to pretty much every other religion, we are.
It was so much fun. Seeing Barbara so happy, waiting for the bride and groom to "consummate" the marriage, getting pulled into the dancing, seeing the Hasid on electric guitar, drinking sooo much red wine, sneaking under the fence, getting locked in the park, dirt and grass in my hair, skinned knees, scratches from the brambles, stains on my dress. It sure didn't feel like New York City.

Another interesting thing.
A boy tethered to a bike by his hair. For thirty days. Riding the distance to LA. But confined to a tiny room. This is Art.

Brown and white. Blue eyes as a novelty. The illusion of chill. The tumult under the placid facade. I'm good at it. So I'm told.

Bikes and boys

My bike is officially "suped" up. I love it. I need a big fat lock, and a back pack for maximum usage.
I'm also to conscious of who reads my blog and I can no longer write about a lot of things. Back to the journal I guess.

Innocent honesty is a beautiful thing. The simple thought of "this is who I am, why would I be uncomfortable with any of myself" is something I truly want to embrace. I wish I had so long ago. Of course you will never get what you want if you won't admit it to yourself, or anyone else what that is. Simple logic.

How quickly I've reverted back to hanging out with "dudes" again. Just like the old days pre-4 years ago. Why is it more comfortable? I think it's actually the option to be ignored that I like. Which is counter-intuitive since being the only girl implies being a novelty and the center of attention. However, I've observed that I prefer being slightly ignored, and just watching the interactions that are so different than women.
Another species, as I've said before.
I think it harkens back my animal behavior days. I remember how happy I was sitting in the yard, and waiting for the animals to be comfortable enough to ignore me. It's the same feeling. It does not happen in a group of women. Everyone has to be engaged, or you are up to something. Not with the boys though.

Freebird

I am officially the new volunteer at Freebird Books and Goods in Cobble Hill!!! http://www.freebirdbooks.com

I am so excited. This space is the closest thing I've seen to Catacombs in NYC.
I hold court on Tuesdays from 6 to 10.
It's a used bookstore with coffee, tea, beer and corndogs! They also have music, readings, and other community events.
However, I hear the coffee is not fair trade...something to work on.

...and this

"some lonely night we can get together / and I'm gonna tie your wrists with leather / and drill a tiny hole into your head"


on repeat over and over right now.

Accentuating the Positive

It has come to my attention that I am becoming a Miss Debbie Downer.
So, I am going to post one fully positive blog entry.

Today it is a beautiful sunny, low humidity 80 degree day in New York City. Basically perfect.

I have an interview tonight that I'm really excited about. I don't want to jinx it with details.

I will be attending my first Jewish wedding on Sunday. My boss's son. I think she mostly invited me for the educational experience that she assumes this little Methodist mid-western girl has not had (true). Since I have not met her son. I can't wait.

Zak moved here this weekend. Another friend! And a good one! It's complicated of course, but I'm still happy. Friends are also starting to schedule fall visits! Yay!

And then there is the excitement I don't think I'm ready for, but can't resist. I think it's too late, but I don't care. I haven't had good butterflies in to long.

Lonely Bikes

I've been thinking a lot about bikes lately. I bought one yesterday for $35. It's a crappy mountain bike that hopefully no one will want to steal. The tires are flat right now and there is no room for it in my apartment, but I'm hoping it will bring me great freedom and happiness. Ha.

I also got a new computer. My first one ever that is all my own. I feel like it might suck up a lot of my time. I sort of want to lock it up until winter so I'm not tempted by it. But alas, I "need" it in order to function along with the rest of modern man.

I've also been thinking about loneliness and how much it scares me. How come some people like to be lonely? Or don't mind? I don't understand solitude that well. I need to feel like someone is connecting with me all the time. Otherwise what? I'll float away? Disappear? Not be thought about? I'm not sure...

Urban Sprinkler

Last night I discovered the joy of open fire hydrants.
I'm not sure anything has ever felt so refreshing. Especially at 2am on a school night.

Hot like Fire

The heat index right now is 120 degrees in New York City. I am pretty sure meat starts to cook at that temperature.

The Air conditioners at my job are failing. The servers are overheating. And electrical meter exploded in the building and everyone on that floor gets to leave.

It's crazy.

XX vs XY

Lately I have been trying to think like a man. Or at least try to understand how they think.
Why they do the things they do.
It's amazing the differences between men and women. I wonder if all female animals are as different from their mates.
I have come to the conclusion that we will never understand each other. At least not fully. We have different brains, different hormones, different genes. They are lacking a chromosome, we lack a penis.
They lack attention spans, we lack body hair.
I just think that the feelings that a man and a women walk away with after the same interaction are just so very very different.

Granted, there are men who come closer to understanding women than others. These are referred to as a "catch". They are few and far between.
I think perhaps women who come closer to understanding men are called tomboys.

I truly believe speciation may be taking place among humans. Perhaps eventually reproduction will no longer be possible.