Wow, this week is full of surprises and all things nice. starting off
on Sunday, my Sunday surprise was Knicks tickets. Funny thing is, of
all sports to enjoy, basketball is the one I understand the best, given
that I played the game. I watched football pretty much for all
of my youth until we moved to Massatwoshits because John Elway was easy
to crush on when you’re 12 years old. And then Baseball, courtesy of
the astrophysicist ex, which feels a bit more like chess to me than
most other big organized games. I feel this strange nostalgia and
patriotism for New York since I have been struggling to make it my home
for the past six years, so when given the New England teams versus the
New York teams, I say go New York.

But enough about that shit…

Yesterday I went out in the frigid cold with my arms propped up
with various layers of insulation and padding donated by the big BJ,
who assured me that Americans were stupid and ridiculous amounts of
layering I would thank him for later. Which was true, but walking
around with my stupid skinny legs and a big marshmallow top made me
feel a lot more like a fucking potato head than anything else. So then
I wandered over to my photographer friend’s house to get shot for Heeb
magazine, which has this t-shirt section where they pimp out Heeb clad
tattooed kids for advertisement. I was hot, so the pictures should be
all rock n roll. Then I ran to a restaurant for a pseudo-interview,
then I ran off to E, who had spent the evening cooking a turkey for
dinner. We planned on having smashed potatoes and turkey but ended up
eating the turkey and some Baileys ice cream, a treat I highly
recommend.

We were talking last night and I realized something that has happened
in this relationship that has never ever happened before, and it goes
beyond communication. I think he wants to understand me. He asks me
questions as to the root of who I am, to try to help me with the stuff
I need help with, and I have been saying to him on more than a few
occasions shit like, uh, no one has ever asked me that before. Because
they haven’t. I mean, sure, being accepted is fine as is, but when you
are really trying to change things, you want people to ask you
questions, you want people to know who you are and why. Every other
dude I have dated has kind of just sat back and watched me
flail and fail, with little or no assistance in understanding the why I
am who I am. And no suggestions for actually fixing anything, because I
guess the investments that I had were kind of shallow and had no real
point to them. And it struck me last night, and I just stared at him,
and thought, fuck, I think he wants to understand me, faults and flaws
and all, and seems somehow pre-packaged to deal with them. This is the
difference between dating the emotionally unready and insecure men of
New York. They tend to want perfection in a woman who can look
pretty on their arms, speak every once in a while, and laugh with.
Simple as that. You got problems, girl? Get away from me, because
everyone’s got problems and yours don’t mean anything to me, because
there are a million pretty faces and holes I can stick it in.

I feel like an absolute princess these days, and I am leaving the house,
doing things, seeing people, spending time in Brooklyn. Activities
activities activities. Ice skating, basketball games..we’re going to a
casino to be fun for a Christmas present…so many things I forgot to
take advantage of in New York, and now there’s a reason.

I can’t go home for Christmas and my mom cried. I have no money. None.
No, that’s a lie. I have $40 until I start working again.
I have no one to take care of my dog and my mom cried because it’s her
first Christmas without her mom. And she keeps trying to get me to move
back, but that is becoming a non-option because I finally feel like I
can put my everything, my passion, energy, and drive into shit that
will really make a difference. Going back is running away, and I don’t
want to do that.

Because it really is time to recognize where it all went wrong before I can make it right again.