Classic NYC Story

…My imperfections annoy me. My inability to keep to a time schedule annoys me. My chronic lateness to things, my constant state of being behind, my tendency to overpromise and underdeliver…

Yesterday was a good day, though. That means that tomorrow has the possibility of being a good day as well. As a matter of fact, fuck it, today isn’t over yet.

What do you do when something or someone, an earthquake, or Irene, or somebody else, blows through your life and destroys everything while destroying nothing at all? There is nothing to rebuild. Not here. Somewhere else, but not here. Nothing has gone awry… nothing that wasn’t awry before. The house that I don’t really want to live in is still standing.

The friend zone is a sacred place. The water in the friend zone is so deep you could drown in it and so sweet that you won’t notice that you’re drowning. The friend zone is a place of comfort and softness and near infinite forgiveness. The friend zone is protected with walls made of yard-thick steel and guarded with twelve foot tall monsters carrying sharp knives. I defend my friends to the death. I’m loyal to my friends well past the point when it stops making sense.

I’ve never done one of Mama’s writing prompts before, and frankly I don’t know why I haven’t. But today I’m going to… so let’s see what we’ve got for today…

It’s Saturday now and I have not been home yet. I’ve been back and forth between midtown and Harlem wondering in what direction I should be headed, sometimes walking, sometimes on a train (wasting money I don’t have to spare). No, seriously, I think I’m physically sick…

I wrote this last year while I was in the hospital. It’s no longer true… my hair looked a mess in the hospital and not so much after I came out of it, but I felt like sharing anyway.

It seems to me that the universe has been conspiring for the past few weeks or months or so to prove to me and everyone else that everything I’ve done for the last [insert pretty round number] years of my life have been completely wrong. But as I sit here contemplating the fact that I [...]

Thanks so much, babe! You can feel free to have me over for cake anytime you please. I think this is cause for a celebration. Are you ready for it? Because I’m about to celebrate…

I think I’m not ready yet to talk about Saturday and the series of bizarre events that led up to Saturday. It burns the inside of my chest when I think about it. It agitates me. It makes me tense up and pace and it makes my muscles and brain hurt.