Somebody is so going to rape, and kill me now

It’s been interesting lately. Busy also. To the point that I’ve lost track of days.

It’s been busy at work. Just so you understand, Halloween was ‘one of those days’ that only this picture can somewhat express it.

And instead of going to a Halloween party, I went to get a haircut because the whole Chewbacca look was going to last my romantic relationship only that far. And I went to a now local place for me, called Hair Metal. And needless to say, I was met by a trio of gorgeous badass women, with real bad pouty mouths, and stories of New York apartments where one can cook dinner and shave their legs at the same time. We all nodded in unison. Also, stories of how NOBODY goes to the city (meaning Manhattan (because Manhattan is so last season)). Brooklyn baby.

Also, that Halloween day I remember thinking: ‘I work too damn much’ to ‘It’s fucking Halloween, and I have zero plans’ to ‘I guess I should just be happy to be alive’ (terrorist attack in Lower Manhattan) to ‘OMG, this place is so fab, and we’re so woke, and liberated, and fuck the system!’. This last feeling was only slightly diminished by paying $80 for the most expansive haircut in my life. Being against he system is fucking expansive, man.

And then last week, I got to spend every evening with friends. And we explored the fine neighborhood of Williamsburg, and ate and drank, and there is plenty to chose from, and walked, and marveled at the people and sights. All this in a place, I can now call home. And it almost feels criminal. Being happy feels criminal. Being in this protective bubble of ignorance, and weird outfits makes you want to forget about evils and crimes, makes you want to embrace the beauty that still exists. It still exists alongside all the bad, and ugly. And it’s just a matter of tilting your head.

And looking down apparently. Also, beauty can be a relative term.

On a more serious note, I still don’t have gas in my new apartment. And I had thoughts of never connecting my gas stove, and instead storing books in it or something. Because that would be super hipster.

I’m in dire need of more furniture, which seems nearly impossible to accomplish with three flight of stairs, and the most crocked floors I have seen thus far.

Regardless, I feel grateful that I made it this far in my life. And I am where I feel like I belong, albeit with a few minor adjustment requirements because there is ALWAYS something to fix. You know, how us girls are.

Anyway, I did feel like staying off the grid this whole time, and just enjoying all there is. But then I thought it wouldn’t be completely fair and might help all yous, and inspire you to go through hell, to feel like failure, to waddle in your misery, to find what matters to you, and just grab onto it. Be it a person, a place, a job, a hobby, if it matter to you it’s important. Probably. I mean if it’s something stupid, I’m not paying money for it.

P.S. Somebody is so going to rape and kill me now, good things never happen to me.

 

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