I hate that it takes me a really long time to write really terribly. I also hate that it is ten after two (period, I hate that I couldn’t finish before noon) and all I’ve eaten is salami, gluten-free chocolate chocolate chip cookies, and 99% Lindt chocolate because #writingsnacks.
Torn between the Def Leppard Hysteria tour t-shirt and a black turtleneck to go see some French circus performers. This is today’s hungover dilemma along with trying to find enough shit to put in my ThriveMarket cart to justify my automatic annual subscription renewal. Exciting stuff.
@losertakesall is the best nuff said forever.
Gotta love how guys always—even after bold, blatant, inexcusable absenteeism—expect us to be excited to hear from them.
Graham Swift / Mothering Sunday
AND WHILE I’M AT IT, this is one of my favorite tiny gasps of the year. A love interrupted, the oldest story there is, and Swift makes it brand new, and it cut me to the quick. #tinybookreview
ditto: i read this in one sitting, on a Sunday, and did. not. want. it. to. end. one of my favorite books of the last 5 years.
It is 7 p.m. on a Monday night and I can hear mom squeeging the shower door in her bathroom. She’s just finished her daily swim, in the pool, in our backyard. I am in California for a week, visiting the folks. It is 90-something degrees outside, 70-something inside, and the central air conditioning is humming happily away.
Getting there….
Dana Kyndrova
I need a really good friend over here asap to help me drunk pack ‘cos this shit ain’t hopping in boxes by itself…..
TODAY’S TO DO: WINTER CLOTHES, ALSO SCARVES AND A DRILL
For the fourth time in two years, I am moving. This time, however, I will be saying goodbye to Brooklyn as home, and making the flying leap to Manhattan. I have changed my address. The buzzer and the mailbox at the new apartment have my name on them already. My room is a wreck and I sense my roommate wants me out. For some reason ever since I gave notice a few months ago, the vibe has been that not staying has been taken as a personal affront (we’re not close but it feels like I’ve insulted the house, or something, by leaving) when the real answer is very simple: I want to walk to work, and not live with anyone else.
I love how shopping for kitchen shit for your tiny ass Manhattan apartment means you’re shopping for the same things as RV owners.
One of the things I am most looking forward to in moving into my own place is that I can finally shave my lady parts in peace. No roommates needing the bathroom, no fucked up razors, no other people’s junk in the shower. It’s all my time, my razors, my legs, my pussy, my space.
How I’ve spent my weekend….everyone seems to have tons of advice on how to find an apartment in NYC, on your own, and yet….none of it gets you anywhere….what’s frustrating is this entire operation has merely been to finally invest in myself, to spend the money and stop gnashing my teeth every day because of a shitty commute, and I still don’t seem to be able to do it despite earning the most I have in my entire life….
If anyone knows of a livable studio or 1bed going in NYC for less than $1750, I’m all ears….but chances you are, you don’t and I’ll be stringing up a hammock in my office….