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balance (2): August 2009

Saturday, August 22, 2009

luv

i never realized what a sappy romantic i was until i arrived in NY this time around. my imagination tends to run away with itself sometimes. my romanticism is often missplaced. it's like that feeling that famous people must get (ie. frances bean cobain, whom my friend rode excitedly with on the L train the other day). just because something or someone looks familiar and true, does not mean you understand it or them. they could be something other.

i fall in love with everything and everyone around me. but as it happens the end of my love stories are all that they end up being suspicious of me. i am the happiest, most realized, calm and laid back person most of the time, who takes each new thing with an optimistic curiosity. but i am untied, i have no peers. my phone doesn't ring with concerned family or happy friends. i move too quickly for that- but it is not me who gives up first. people don't trust my abnormality. people don't trust kindness, openness, free-spiritedness...and least of all generosity. and thus, though i always grasp for their potential, they always slip away into muddy mundanity. not able to brave the depths of the honesty and reality and adventure of my life. a pervading theme for me though, and my own fault too. i expect too much back from people. and i am stubbornly blind. i want people to be things that they are not capable of being, that they are simply not. i refuse to give up on what i want.

anyway... i am a romantic because i love that feeling of wandering alone in a big city full of crowds. a feeling that fate could pluck you and some other person at random, and throw you into a situation together of whatever consequence...some insignificant moment that leads to a parallel life.

that has already happened a few times to me here, people who have been dropped into my path, for however brief a time. there is my random roommate who beams a pretty mask behind which hides a desperately sad and lonely lady (which i can relate to sometimes, so i do, sneaking a cigarette to get out of my room). there's the polish landlord i spent a nice afternoon chatting with, who showed me his photos of him on camels in egypt, and flying gliders in boulder (where i also learned). he taught me a little hungarian (which i spoke til i was 3 but don't remember). i think i really fell in love with him a little bit even though he was maybe 65. he scolded me like a father for having bad credit. he was a businessman who tried to gouge me on rent. i had dreams of him a couple nights after.... there is the bartender boy at the thai restaurant neighboring one side of me, who contrives to run into me whenever i walk out of my house. he is innocent and energetic. too clean for me but i like the attention, and the fact that he is leaving in 2 weeks to play bass on a cruise ship. there's the apartment broker boy with the thai girlfriend on the other side (i contrive to run into him because he's cool. he told me a little about growing up in the gutters of LA). i like to brush lives with people. i refuse to do smalltalk. if fate is gonna throw me a bone, i intend to recognize it. i throw myself into these little relationships with love.

thailand follows me (my ex thai boyfriends both wrote me asking for money within a couple hours of each other). i found myself singing along to the music on the radio at my favorite thai restaurant, listening to the staff banter in thai. i am too shy to tell them that i lived in their country for the past 7 years or so... my thai is atrocious. but i love their hairless arms from afar. i remember their soft grandmothers patting my hand and handing me plates piled with food, dragging me behind them with a polite smile to gold-gilted temples with choking incense and beautiful flowers. it is easy to be romantic about thailand in retrospect.

and the beautiful skinny boy in the 3 piece suit i saw on the L train. with tousled blonde hair. we kept getting off and back on at the same stops, and just missing each other's lonely gaze. if i see him again i will snatch him up for sure (i regret my mixed signals, out of fear, as usual). he had eyes that looked right through me, begged me for a connection. i wanted to go curl up in him, kiss his face. instead i tried to stare at him coldly. if that is the end of that love story then i deserve it. but i basked in the romance of the afternoon in my head. i sat quietly on a stoop in the rain to eat my pizza, watching my neighborhood thoughtfully on my way home, putting out feelers of energy to him, hoping we bump lives again.

i sobbed through hours of sad movies i subjected myself to, since it is romantic to sob alone in a theater, and in my castle, my corner room with 3 windows looking down on my busy, sunny neighborhood. i the sad queen. i wallowed in stories of death and tragedy. mourning the lover i don't even have yet. believing like a fool that that can even exist. i especially liked the love story in 'inglorious basterds'- the fatal love that can not be denied. it took my breath away. another floaty afternoon.

...i have said goodbye to all my lovers, for the first time ever i leave them in the past. i tried to explain to my little twin 'a' the other night why that is important- why the past must be left to the past. but you have to not want it, mixed in like blood with milk, in your future, i guess. he didn't understand at all. i miss kissing him goodnight too, my almost-lover, the stubborn boy with a purr. but i have to let him go too. at my age i guess there is always another girl.... but leaving love in the past has helped me change my perception of it. i have become less desperate. i can lie back and float, let others drift into and out of my life as they will from now on. love them as much as i can while they are in it. and forgive them when they are gone. if they don't want to take advantage of it it is their loss. i still sip out the romance. i am content to witness life on my own, in my dreams for now. i am confident that the future is good.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

rrrrg

it's too nice and sunny in my room to write. i am on the hunt for a cave....

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

fate

my yoga teacher is hot. he looks like will from will and grace, very clean and sculpted, and of ambiguous sexuality. just how i like 'em. in black. i can't make eye contact with him though because sometimes i am so bad at yoga and don't want people looking at me(!). still, our class was dripping sweat today and that was fun, he came to work out next to me which was strangely calming. i had a nice little space by the window. some flowers... the postcard brooklyn street life outside it. there is also a peaceful om wall under which hottie picturesque teacher man sits the rest of the time. and just the right amount of slightly stupid chanting that make me giggle with one eye open to see if they're for real....the class is hard for me who isn't comfortable standing on my head.... still i felt very good afterwards. walked home in very hot and sunny sun. played with the dog, who i am afraid will kill me someday in this house i live in. he is half great dane and half mastiff. i gave him half my dinner and he still tried to push his way in the room when i blocked him out.

but then i got jobs. and the kind of jobs i like. one for sure in the morning. one maybe in the night. slow down, think about what you want, and insist upon it until you get it, is the moral of that... i hope anyway.... then do it well. and watch the bank account max out. :) be confident that you will always get what you want.

meanwhile i love sitting at my other window.... watching all the people and devising their stories in my head (unfortunately not online, i need to write more). there are a lot of cops if that is of interest to anyone (blackmail? kidding). and latin guys walking their cute puppies. and business men with suitcases. and librarian hipsters. not the cute cool cuddly people i like. the dj agency artist boys in their 'caves' (both an appointment in my calendar and one i met and love in real life)..... sigh too many boys on my mind and not in reality. it's unfortunate. yes one in particular. he ignores me though so that balances out all you stalkers. it makes me want to stab myself in the heart like the vampire movies.

oh i do have a lot of good tv to watch. weeds, true blood, and bottom- love them all, brilliant. i make friends with some food delivery guys. dodge roommates because they want to talk about what to do in the future. dream about my future loft in which i can implant my storage trousseau. pick drunken friends off the floor (no more of that, sorry, fucking thai guys)... take horrific impromptu model pics with some really good photographer at a party who tells me my shirt is sexy and his weird scarecrow italian girlfriend who doesn't laugh at the jokes that we two make out. try to be calm and control my nightmares a bit later in my comfy bed.... waking up and remembering lots of old good music i had and trying to make playlists of old mix tapes basically.... coming along slowly. i am realizing that there are a lot of scary people on drugs in williamsburg, and resolving to stay away from them. wishing my friend 'l' was here to go clubbing with. cancelling thailand and my townhouse there by the temple. wishing the actor friend wasn't so flaky so i could trust our nice happy emails to each other when he goes back soon. wishing i lived in a place with a cat instead. named kismet.

and breathing... in this unbalanced space i live in here. NY.

Wednesday, August 05, 2009

the big bad apple

last week was sooo marvelous. i checked out of my apartment with it's nice porch and cable tv and got out of boulder on the bus with barely a backwards nod at the rain and clouds hovering over the mountains. spent a couple of nights in denver- dancing in a goth/industrial/80s club with beautiful 'l' and some lovely smiley friends of hers, and drinking in the dark and loungy red vinyl booths of 'gabors' downtown with my old scooter friend 'j' and my other old tattoo gal friend 'j'.... in all cases we all got drunk and giggled over each other all night long. talked about old times. it was a magical exit, as was my hotel which sang songs at every floor of the elevator and had a racecar alarm clock. i needed the fun so badly, and now i think back fondly of colorado.



brrrrr neurosis is at full speed ahead right now in NY. but i figured out i was so stressed because for some inane reason i started smoking at the end of boulder, and i decided to stop as soon as i moved to NY (had a hell of a send-off believe me, i thought i was gonna have a seizure and die with so much nicotine in my system that night). so everywhere i went (go) on my detox spree, people were like pinpricks in my skin, i had a musical blinding headache, and the feeling that i was about to squirt or pass out prevailed.... i still crave a cigarette miserably but won't touch them. i'll do yoga instead as soon as i remember to breathe (thanks 'k').... and people get their knickers in a twist all about weed, which is beneficial! cigarettes may actually kill me!

i haven't been able to leave my dingy new house without feeling slightly scared for this first couple of days here- it's so industrial and big. there is just a lot going on. it is soooooooooooooooo in your face! i suppose i just forgot.... it is still lovely- my new 'hood which is my old 'hood (williamsburg in brooklyn) is a nice neighborhoodly place, like boulder. nice in summer anyway... you can see the city right across the river, wander amongst the big warehouse alleys. it is much more diverse and interesting than boulder. the people are a lot hotter (yay! in their hipster clothes). probably not as nice though... i don't know what to do here yet. i am still trying to get used to living with roommates for the first time in 6 years. they are nice- an older actress/fashion lady with frizzy red hair and paintings of her sloppily affectionate hero-id dog named roark. he hangs out with me a lot in my big room with my music and incense, when i am not blocking him out with a makeshift door for being smelly. the other roomie is a plump cheery goth (is that an oxymoron?) sort of girl whom i like a lot- we have chatted about boys (she's lucky, i'm not) and bikes (i tried buying from some guys who drove hours to get here with bikes in their van, but the bikes were crap so i left them standing on the street feeling stupid :(.). i am living in the perfect location- a sunny corner room overlooking the williamsburg bridge and the J train that runs over it to and from the city. also the street below, which is actually the main drag of bedford avenue. my building is pepto bismol pink. there is grafitti art all around. some shitty bodegas. a salon that i already pissed off and several counterpersons that i have already flirted with at hipster coffee and wine shops. there is a thai restaurant downstairs full of horrible americanized thai food but nice people. maybe if i make friends with them they will feed me some of their real thai food. anyway i can look out of my window and see a lot of life, which is perfect for voyeur me. and i organized my music so i have a nice soundtrack.



my window


i went on an interview today- to midtown, on the train. the guy i met with was so laid back, which is important to me. we ended up chatting more about denver and the fact that agencies make you feel like a cog in a factory than the actual job he was offering, but it is more along my lines of what i like than poor agency x was. only problem is it is like 35 people crammed into a small room and teeny tiny elevators that make me feel like panicking when i ride up them stuffed with people. why don't people understand quality of life? it is so important to me. light, airy, sunny space to work in. that's all i need. they did have some decent art. their project is really cool (it's an online makeover tool which allows you to upload your picture and manipulate your hair, makeup, accessories etc. the guy told me lots of trannies use it.) but i don't want to make it my life. i tried to explain that, we'll see what happens. there are more interviews ahead.

sigh. i am trying to calm down. luckily my boxes arrived from boulder complete with smoky treats. so off to practice breathing.

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