Recently in Reflective Mood Category

School is over and I have returned to some semblance of an adult life. Back to working at a mega agency, subletting my friend's place in Bushwick until the end of September, most of my old apartments' stuff in a storage unit. I graduated burned out on my passion project thesis and generally unsure of what to do next. 

This is rare time where I can say without hesitation that life is pretty damned good. Sure, I'm entering the wild eyed pressured phase of my thesis and am still struggling to keep my brain totally focused. And most things aren't totally perfect. But, I'm turning 30 on Wednesday and going to Europe on Thursday and feel happy and settled and inspired and healthy and hopeful. The lack of complaints on so many fronts blows the things I could complain about out of the water. It's a really nice feeling. Over the years, I've always thought about what kind of tattoo I would get if I could swallow my fear of needles long enough to get inked. I had a phase where the phoenix rising from the ashes was it, then a black cat in honor of my neurotic girl. But the one thing that has stuck is just a simple writing of the word Excelsior. It means ever upward (actually, higher) in Latin (which I took for 5 years a million years ago) and is the New York state motto. It seems like it would be a nice tribute to the strange turns this life has taken over the years and that it has been getting better going on. Maybe I need to just pop a Xanax and make it happen. My trip next week is a 12 day combined do over of Paris and first journey to Berlin. I'm curious to see what Paris will be like not agonizing over every Euro spent and able to do whatever I want. I'm looking forward to seeing a lot of the people I hung with over the summer and explore some new places too. The dream to move there is still chugging along, so scouting out some prospects is also on the agenda. It's harder for me to pick up and go haphazardly because working at a bar or tourist spot would probably barely be enough for me to pay my bills there and also take care of my student loan bills that are about to be due very soon. I want to figure out a way to work it out though. Berlin is a mecca of people I know, so I'm definitely interested in exploring that too. Two Brooklyn friends moved there in the past year, so I want to chill with them and see what the place is all about. My one guaranteed destination is Berghain and besides that, just plan to wander and soak it all about. PrincessNella and I are meeting up and exploring it together, so that should be hijinks galore. Happy early birthday to me and hopefully many more.

 

I'm having a really hard time wrapping my head around that in a month's time, I'll have done a whole year of grad school. April is shaping up to be the busiest month so far. Last week was a bit shit as the motivation fell out of my life in a big way. All I wanted to do was avoid work and feel free and daydream about the money I could be making soon or strolling through Paris (if the damned school doesn't cancel the program like I've heard grumblings about,..). My mind was everywhere at once and taking that time for total irresponsibility had me working twice as hard this week.

I discovered the new Pantha du Prince album the other day and I've been happily rocking it, especially the song above. It's definitely struck a nerve.

I've been examining recently my feelings about the program. For a long stretch, I hated it. Last semester (and 2009 in general) was all about life upheaval and I really did end in December wanting to quit. My program can be very alienating because it seems like there's a culture in place where you're expected to give up everything else you have going on to hang out on the floor and exclusively with program people. With the exception of a friend or two, I just didn't click with anyone there and instead of running headfirst into it, I stepped back and carved out my own path. It hasn't made me the most popular 1st year, but at 29, I'd rather have a life I can happily call my own than be miserable trying to fit in. And this semester has felt different as I've followed my own passions more to take some non-typical classes and create a schedule and life balance I feel happy with. I might scream if another person asks me if I'm a part-time student, but I feel like the intellectual satisfaction I've had lately really keeps me from giving a shit what the average fellow program person thinks.

I'm at the point where I can always think of something else that I would like to have that I don't (a bigger apartment, being able to avoid the end of the semester poverty, a nice guy to indulge me in my nerdy talk), but the abject misery I felt as a cog in the corporate world is one thing I do not miss. It feels nice to smile and laugh and mean it. And I wouldn't trade making it out of the last crazy few years well-adjusted for anything else.

I'd been thinking of a blog revival for some time now. 

Arthur Russell - In The Light Of The Miracle

Sometimes life just feels better enjoyed and tossed about instead of documenting in precise detail every happening. I'm a neglectful blog mother, but I know the thrill of the word will come back sooner or later.

Life has been coming at me 150 mph and I've been doing my best to bob and weave. I turned 28, got into grad school, and found a freelance job all within a few weeks. Also my bathroom flooded for the third time due to my shitty upstairs neighbor (lease up in June! yes!), was in my first serious fist fight in over 10 years, and I'm trying to get past the sticker shock of taking out loans for 1 year of schooling that are more than what I owe for 4 of undergrad plus interest. I'm struggling with those extra pounds and trying to stay healthy. Also finally at a place where I can wrestle with wondering if I'm in love with a boy or in love with love while not being haunted by all those that came before. And I am so looking forward to Saturday when it's 70. In other words, I'm up to the same old shit...but generally happier. That's gotta count for something.

One of the most important things I've taken from '08 is despite the best intentions (and wishes, hopes, and dreams), sometimes shit just doesn't work and you've got to pick up and move on. I've always been horrible with that kind of thing. I play tough, but occasionally I let things slip out of the marshmallow core and it's hard to repack shit once you've let it out. When I'm in emo mode, I let that crap drive me to distraction without fail. And eventually I accept the shipwreck and let melancholy set in. In dark days, I wonder if it's ever worth it since it always ends the same way. But, I know the answer is always yes. Sue me, I'm a closet romantic.

New Year's was predictably insane. I flew around town like a comet and had a hard come down that's taken all weekend to recover from. I'm trying to balance between waiting for things to happen (the app result, whether I'll even have a job at the end of the week) and taking care of business (the neverending apartment decoration project, building a better me). I'm just trying to scale down the fuckups this year and make it to 2010 without too much dumb shit happening. I'm aiming low this year. It's better that way.

While I've been off bullshitting, I've been getting older. Starting my Saturn return and all that. 27 in itself doesn't really feel like much, even though I thought of it as this semi-magical age when I was younger. The age when you become a real adult. In reality, it's kinda...eh. I suspect it's because 26 was so fucking hectic. I'm all about closing the book on all that. A fun fact is that when I used to run around with Farmer and The Boy (separately, natch), they were 27 and I think that's when it first became crystal clear that it was just a number, not a particular badge of maturity. They're both over 30 now and Farmer's a daddy, which is scary and awesome at the same time. The Boy, on the other hand, is still running around like a jerkface. I had a hilarious and random encounter with him and his BMX near the Navy Yard a while ago. Time really does fly.

This year, I decided to sit out Miami and my annual tradition of going into debt to pay for that trip. Though the cosmos is toying with me: Robert Owens is doing a show here Sunday night and he was my highlight last year, but Erykah Badu is playing a free show down there Thursday. My plan for this year is go to Sonar and spend some time visiting P. Diddy and Alex. I've never been to Europe before and the best airfare I'm finding is about $800 (not to mention the dollar vs. the euro is pathetic at the moment), so I need to save my pennies. That might be easier to do if I ever got around to finding a roommate... Baby steps.

Lately, I've been struggling trying to get this Life vs. Work equilibrium thing right. I've spent a big chunk of the past five years being a party girl and it's an adjustment to realize now that I'm actually building a career (I sure wouldn't have said that this time last year), staying out all night most nights can't really mesh with that. I've been experimenting with ways to build up some self-control and still have fun. It still needs adjustment time for sure. Let's not even mention that whatever balance I build can potentially come tumbling down if I introduce a new boy into the mix. Then again, I'm so far out of that mode. I don't even remember what it's like to date at this point.

I was kicking around the idea of resolutions for this year, but what I want is pretty simple: staying healthy, even greater career success, traveling more, having fun and keeping good people around. And I guess blogging more, but I always say that whether I mean it or not.

Happy New Year! I've basically been a sicky mess since then. I was on vacation for about a week and a half leading up to it and started the wild run early, so once it was time to go back to work, my body conked out on me.

New Year's Eve is a bit of a blur for me. 2007 was a pretty insane year and I was happy to see the tail end of it. I spent the early part of the day scrambling to finish off shopping and cleaning and getting things done and failing miserably. And just when I thought I had enough to preoccupy me, yet another bombshell. '07 was the year of "aww fuck, what's next?" I was never allowed to get too comfortable before a seismic shift came along to stir up everything. It sucked, but I think I'm a better person on the other side.

And there I was at 11:30 on New Year's Eve, surprising myself by wearing a party dress. I'd been wrangling with it since the dressing room the day before, still wondering if it wasn't just a bit too short. It was fine in the front and sorta in the back as long as I didn't bend over or sit down or something useful. And unlike some crazies I saw later in the night, I had tights to keep it all from being a little too drafty and indecent. To cap off a year I'd spent transforming away from minimalist and preferring to be unnoticed, I went with big hair and earrings and loved my reflection. I swilled cheap champagne and danced for the passively observing cat and waited for PrincessNella's call and just felt totally relieved. I had made it through the loss of the hell job, being so sick and weak for a while there that I could barely get out of bed, all the dumb entanglements, and the horrible potential move to something like happiness and (partial) stability for the first time in forever. I buckled down and suffered, but I did it. I earned my fucking adult tag.

Midnight was me and PN and champagne and fireworks from the park. We just listened to music and kicked it for a while before we rallied to go out. Studio B was the destination for the second year, but this time, we didn't kick around that long before she was off home and I was en route to the still patchy part of my night. But, I hear I was quite the dancer and I even made a friend to go off to another party with. Beforehand, I'd made an appointment to get cable installed on New Year's Day, so imagine how unamused the cable guy was to hear me pleading for him to come back later with a techno background since I still wasn't home at 11am. I stumbled out in the light feeling like a degenerate soon after, but still missed him because he called back while I was in the passed out part of my day. Good times. I even got a food delivery from Ms. Mommy with the affirmation that yes, my dress was too short. But hell, it looks different without tights is my final word on it.

I don't really have any formal resolutions this year. Besides maybe be as good to people as they are to me, do the right thing, and curb the dickheads in my life. And stay healthy, but that's more of a wish. I've already discovered that's not much under my control. Oh, and I guess to write more here too, but I can't make any promises.