The last night I saw you was the only night my dog ever pissed on my floor. She did it while you were here doing drugs in my bathroom that were delivered by my dealer in a silver BMW about twenty minutes ago.
These are things that happen in Manhattan.
I’ve known you for almost two years now and you have begged and pleaded and played on the weakness my divorce cut me with and broke both of my knees.
I’ve given you a lot. Too much. Things I will never get back. Things you will never deserve. But if you ever thought I would give you the number of my delivery service – you played yourself. Continue reading
The Live in Your Living Room event that occurred in my apartment last Saturday was a tremendous success. It was incredible to see Cloudmachine perform in my apartment four years after I wrote poetry to his music. It was the first time we met in person and an amazing experience all around.
Another surreal aspect of it all was how my life has come full circle. I set off to write professionally in New York City back in 2009, did just that, the gig came to a conclusion, so here I am floating again.
I’ve gotta say meeting someone in person who I came in contact with so early on in my mission was out of this world. There were probably about twenty people in my place at one stage, I think that’s more people than I actually know in total. The musicians brought guests, friends brought friends; it was an incredible event to be part of.
I’ve ducked out of the city again to get some writing done in the country. Focussing can be tricky with the whole, “Jesus, I really need a job”-ness railing the back of my skull – but I’m doing my best. After all, what more can we do.
Something else I’ve come to terms with recently is that during all of my working ventures since I’ve been back in town – the hardest one has been forgiving the ex-husband I left in Australia. Before my divorce, I didn’t really understand what being traumatized meant. And while I understand it and have dealt with it to the best of my ability over the past 36 months, I still haven’t forgiven him.
That’s unfamiliar to me, I might get crabby – but forgiveness is something that’s always come easy before.
I guess part of why it’s on my mind is because I’ve been working so hard these past 38 months, I was able to suppress the final pieces that come with letting go of a big part of your life. I don’t wish it on anyone.
I’m going to write some poems about it and get my posting steady again. I know I can’t feel terrible forever, I just hope it concludes soon.
OMFG. Blog family, it’s been a minute. An epic gap in the five year strong FollowMeToNYC crusade through my wordly world.
I’ve been in the country, Halloween came and went, I’ve been quiet and internal and reflective and all of those things that take you over in the times of your life that will prove to be most critical.
Essentially, shit’s going done.
There’s something that’s been on my mind since April and, unlike my happy trails of rant that I leave around here, I can’t directly talk about it. I guess the best thing to compare it to is that I feel like I’m in a witness protection program. Only I was a victim, not a witness. And in any event, I can’t talk about it. However, I will say, that this incident has directly impacted where I’m at right now – in every sense.
This is the first time I’ve been “in between jobs” since independently building my Manhattan life. That means I’ve never been cut loose to simply enjoy what I worked so hard for. And that’s exactly what I plan to do.
Of course, I’ve been working around the clock for the past two weeks. I have applied for Writer work everywhere from New York City to Australia and back to Seattle. I’ve been writing Book and dumping boyfriends.
FollowMeToNYC is a creative processing ground which expresses individual ideas that often change with the tides. Naturally, these ideas do not reflect those of any of my employers, or anyone else you might see me wandering down the street with one day.