Anytime, Anywhere

Maybe I get cocky when I wear my America Is Scary t-shirt. People tend to stare, and sometimes make disapproving faces, so I have to keep my shoulders squared, my guard up, and be ready to defend myself, at least mentally, because shit, it can get scary out there these days.

So when stee and I were on the train from Connecticut to New York tonight, I probably should have realized I could get into some trouble. Read more

‘Til I’m Home Again and Feeling Right

It’s a very strange sensation, walking into my mom’s new house, seeing everything I associate with home (the dog, the bookshelves, the large dining room table, Mom) in a place I’ve never seen before in my life. It’s exactly like when you dream that you’re in your house but it’s not your house but it is your house. Dan’s standing there, in my house, next to my mom, which is very dream-like indeed, since I think they hadn’t seen each other in four years. Dan’s petting the dog, who is in a backyard I’ve never seen before, and Mom’s wearing an ankle bracelet I’ve never seen before. She lives in Connecticut now and I had nothing to do with this move. Her house is still in boxes. She shows me the bracelet — it’s from high school, when she went on a date with a boy. The boy is now a man and he is back in her life. She smiles as she holds it, her eyes getting a little dreamy. Read more

Mandela Loves Cheese

I’m back. Thanks for waiting.

I think I officially love New York, but I don’t see how anybody lives there all of the time. It was exhausting. Constantly moving, always spending money, sweating while cold and raining… I’ve never really been cold while sweating and wet from rain before. It was a lot of fun and took all of my money. I got to see just about everybody I love out there (including one special lady that drove two hours just to see me for an hour at a TGIFriday’s. That’s how you know someone loves you). I think I slept about ten hours total, but that was just fine.

There wasn’t too much sight-seeing, as it was raining most of the time, but I felt like I walked just about every square inch there was around there. I walked the Brooklyn Bridge, I saw a Broadway show, and I was on television (give your TiVoes a rest — the segment isn’t airing until the week of Sept. 15th). I slept in a tiny Manhattan apartment on a broken futon, I slept in a near-stranger’s bed in Brooklyn, and I slept in a guest room in Long Island. I got mistaken for a local and gave directions to Kew Gardens (even though I figured that first word was spelled with just a single letter). I braved my way through thunderstorms and umbrella-bending winds to sign a contact that certifies me as a real writer. I spent an entire night in one bar catching up with friends, crying and laughing and holding hands, wishing there weren’t so many miles between us every single day.

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I Think I Might Be Hungover

Well, at least I finally got some sleep. Somewhere after three in the morning last night I finally went to bed. I just took the most memorable shower. This place has a shower that feels like a car wash. I started laughing in there, it was so sarcastic. “Oh, you need a shower?” SPLOOOSSSHHH! It knocks you back. The only thing it didn’t hose away was my intense headache from yesterday’s all-day drinking jamboree. I don’t understand why the man who rents this place doesn’t have nine girlfriends — one he dates and eight that date the shower.

I took a train by myself to Penn Station (meaning someone dropped me off at the train and someone was there when it stopped, so I’m not that bold of a girl yet). The entire time I had convinced myself I was on the wrong train. Then I went to the wrong meeting place but luckily so did my cousin.

Coffee, baby pictures, family discussions, catching-up. This was probably the eighth or ninth time I’ve seen my cousin in my life. We didn’t grow up near each other and he’s older than I am so when we were kids we really had nothing in common, so I find it amazing how alike we are. We have the same sense of humor, the same tastes. I wish we had been able to see more of each other. I love him very much and I’m glad I got to spend the day together, even if we did forget to call my mom to wish her a happy birthday until the very second the train was arriving to take him home. Next time.

Get yourself a friend who’s a concierge, because he can tell you where you are, where you want to be, where you want to drink afterwards and how long you’ll be at each place. We had lunch at a mexican food place with margaritas stronger than any Trudy’s Mexican Martini. We were giggly and stupid and then went to another place to meet up with another friend for more drinks and being stupid until we went to another friend’s place to meet up for more drinks and being stupid and there was even another place before that where we met up to meet up before we went somewhere.

So today I sound like Marge Simpson. My jeans are still wet from the rain that never stopped yesterday, and I’m ready to have a nice quiet bagel followed by a quick lunch with my editor and then some sight-seeing. Yesterday was just a day full of looking at the bottom of an empty glass. I just want some water.

I Think I Might Be Tired.

Happy birthday, Mommy.

So it’s two in the morning and I still haven’t gone to sleep. I figure if I don’t write about my day now I might not ever put it all down.

There was a diner in Long Island with the cheapest breakfast I’ve ever had. Then unpacking, email, showering, phone calls. No time for a nap. A train into the city.

The first step off the train felt enormous. I could feel the energy of the city rush past me, informing me rather quickly that things moved at a different pace around here. I turned my head to comment, but my friend was already nine paces ahead of me, well used to the rhythm of the city. I’m glad I didn’t wear the fancy shoes, but I wish I had worn my sneakers. The soles of my feet have blisters from today, which was supposed to be our “light walking day.”

Immediately there was a subway and it finally hit me that I was in New York. All the sounds crashed around me. The smell of urine and trash smacking your face at certain corners. Seeing the drop off a platform and thinking how easy it would be to just fall in there. I was in New York, somehow. When did that happen? I was just in Los Angeles.

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