the world & words of a new york city writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Tag: love (page 1 of 51)

Because it’s me… also Australia

After switching all of my plans and extensive $12,000 puppy relocation efforts… I made an executive decision.

Australia or bust kids…

While living close to Europe for so long, whisking in and out in a seven hour blink, has been divine… I’m not yet prepared to retire on the southern coast.

I’ve been excited to go home for too long. Therefore, the furry creatures and I will leave New York City for a drive across country in two weeks.

I will endeavor to have my blah-g fixed up in time. Once I get back to Oz, I’ll have heaps of time to bring things back up to scratch.

Being in Manhattan over six years, I’ve barely had time to sleep…

Damn. Time flies when you live in midtown. Real talk.

I can’t wait to start my new phase of life with husband number three somewhere in the tropics. I found a job that looks like it will stretch my brain right in a neighborhood I’d like to reside. I’m going to write them a letter and see what happens.

I feel like I’m running as fast as I ever have, while being as still as I’ve ever been.

Strange things always happen when it’s time for me to bounce across continents…

I haven’t really been around to talk about my life in a minute. Here’s to what lies next…

but it’s ok…

Three husbands at 39 is a lot…

Everything I haven’t said in Interfuckville is inked.

Love and light, good luck… more soon

malaga. cross country. australia.

Next week I’m off to Spain, a week after that I’m driving across the country with one of my favorite boys and the puppies, from Los Angeles – it’s back to Australia.

Goodness me… goodness me…

Excitement isn’t quite the word to grip all of the happenings around me, fulfillment is better.

Not only have I been rocking the shit out of New York City for six and a half years, I’m finding my way home in the exact timeframe I said I would. I have written so many stories and been paid in such a diverse mix of Writer gigs; the idea of tucking myself back into a little house somewhere in Brisbane to relax with the love of my life under a couple of mango trees could not be more enticing.

It’s been interesting observing American culture. Sure I grew up around here, but everything changes – I guess that’s part of the beauty of life. I’m excited to experience the changes that have happened back home since I’ve been gone.

One change I’m kind of ambivalent and confused about is the enormous social media blow up. I remember when I first came across blah-gs all those years ago and figured I should have one as a Writer. Plus it was a good distraction to update this every day while I lived out the ass end of my first marriage and put every strand of my DNA into getting to Manhattan.

This online exposure has evolved into a youtube culture of how many followers does she have and how many hits did this get. I’m happy for the crowd getting money in this scope, but I don’t like being a forced receiver of having it shoved down my throat. And I can confidently say, in this country, it’s shoved down your throat.

Since I was a little girl I imagined piling up my writing books plump with inky secrets that I only share with who I love the most. I’ve stayed true to this, even with some of my words showing up here or there.

Australia is one of the most far-away, silent stories I’ve lived. I can’t wait to get back.

mood AF. ode to bey.

Tonight, and this weekend in general, I’ve been like (af)…

My sincere apologies for officially becoming the whack blah-ger who isn’t here on the daily. It’s not that my thoughts and energy aren’t excited about rounding out the whole Australia to Manhattan back to Australia circle, girl – it just takes a lot of bloody work.

Fortunately, as a light working species on this planet…

I totally got this.

I spent the St Paddy’s holiday weekend feeding boys corned beef and plotting, scheming, etc. In midtown, of course. April is set to be my last full month in the states. As a never say never’er… I’m sitting mad tight for like six weeks.

“We can skip small talk, let’s get right to the chase.”

The puppies are like 87% clear of the great Aussie exodus. Two babies, one Spanish viking, a few notebooks and some cASH.

“Tell me something, where your boss at? The ladies up in here, they like to talk back.”

In closing – I love that Bey is touring with her man but the objectification of women on Earth continues to distract me sometimes, as much as I endeavor to avoid screens.

We all know Bey is completely hotter than her man, but somehow what he’s doing gets more attention. God bless the tour.

Anyways, also… Krishna Das:

stay blessed give blessings.

holding had

holding had

we had
spanish
food and
talking. about
him; and I
stretched – toward
the sun moon
stars. eternal
external in(side).
this is
what? we
with (hold).

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