Well, I tried to bring back the snark but unfortunately you're stuck with more rants of despair. Today is my first day of real homesickness. I'm sitting here about to burst into tears at how much I wish I were in New York right now.
I'm sequestered in a room the size of my Brooklyn bathroom with 3 suitcases that have lost all semblence of order or tidiness, and I have no energy or interest in resolving the situation. My two brand-new suits are crumpled in a ball somewhere in the midst of all of this, and I'm angry beyond belief at myself for having just spent $500 on new work clothes only to let them get cruddy before I even wear them BUT I JUST DON'T CARE.
It takes me an hour to get anywhere in the city from here. I feel like I'm in the way if I try to cook in my host's kitchen, or watch TV, or take a shower. I don't even have anything to COOK WITH because I don't have staples like olive oil or Balsamic vinegar! Everything goes bad here in 2 days because they don't use preservatives! AND I HAVE NO MONEY TO FOOD SHOP because I don't get paid until 28 May!
The only places I feel remotely comfortable in this city are my office and my friend's temporary flat. Obviously, I'm not spending any more time at work than I need to because I sense a very quick upswing in work coming right around the corner. And despite my own personal ease and comfort at my friend's place, my poor friend's host is I'm sure ready to have the consulate revoke my right-to-stay because he sees my face every 3 days. I'm like a squatter on their couch every weekend!
I don't have any of my music, because it's all on a portable harddrive in a box next to my desk at work. I don't have any place to put any of the flyers or postcards or other artifacts I collect when I walk around. I'm running out of toothpaste, but I can't find the tube that I brought from home. It's somewhere in this hovel. I also can't find my sports bra, and that is starting to become a problem. I haven't practiced yoga in 3 weeks, and even if I wanted to practice it on my own, outside of a studio, where would I do it? In my hosts' living room?!
It is 4PM in the afternoon and all I've accomplished today is to get waxed and take a shower and write this. It's miserable outside. I'm wearing a wool sweater!
What I want right now is to get on the subway (NOT the goddamned tube) and exit at 49th-50th Street/Rockefeller Center and go into the MoMA where I get in for free and find one of my favorite paintings like a Morris Louis or a Joseph Cornell box and just sit there for a while and think. Then I want to go over to Sloane's, or Rietje's, and hang out and chat. I want to get dinner at the pasta place on Prince Street or get Indian food on 5th Street. Then I want to go back to Brooklyn and drink PBR at Alibi and play Big Buckhunter and stumble 2 blocks to my big bed with A FUCKING BOXSPRING MATTRESS (seriously, can't anyone in this country do anything for my back?!) in my tiny garret room with the Danielle-sized sloped ceiling.
And I want to go to the Greenmarket, and I want to get milk from a farmer, and I want to compost. And I want to go to Central Park and I want to go to the design stores in SoHo and I want to go to Cobble Hill and get coffee beans from D'Amicos where the little old Italian ladies yell at their sons to get married already. And I want to see the Sex in the City movie with my friends, and I want to talk about how American men are all douchebags, and I want to dissect their behavior with my ladies and try to understand why they act the way they do, but still hope that tonight might be the night I find the one.
I want to complain that my parents are showing up at the interminable gap between lunch and dinner so that we can't find someplace to eat. I want to spend a lazy Sunday on my bike riding around Brooklyn ON THE RIGHT HAND SIDE OF THE ROAD. I want to sit by the river and smell the pungent brine as the river water mixes with the sea.
Yes, I know that there are all kinds of things I could be doing with myself right now besides whining and complaining. And yes, I know that I just posted that I should be grateful for this opportunity. But until June 18, I reserve the right to be really fucking PISSED OFF that I'm stuck in seemingly interminable limbo. I am 27 years old, for god's sake... I should be living like an adult, not some trustfund hosteller. This is the part of fate where I really want to grab control of my destiny and wrangle it into place. If this is some kind of sick joke on karma's behalf, thankyouverymuch but I'm over it.
Sigh. I miss you all. Hugs.
"you'll soon have your own place, you'll soon have your own place, you'll soon have your own place".
ReplyDeleteRinse and repeat.
Seeing as nothing anyone really says will matter at this moment, and that's cool, I only have this to say.
ReplyDeleteIt's ok to be pissed, sick of it, homesick, depressed... but if there's one thing that I've learned in the 9 years since you and I have had a real conversation is; everything gets better in time and it gets great. I'm sure there are a ton of past experiences you can scrounge up when you're ready to prove that tasty fact, but, take your time.
Karma knows what it's doing. But sometimes, she takes a MoMa-less tube that lacks PBR, deer hunting games, and comfortable sleeping quarters to get you where you want to go.
Karma is the Garmin of the universe so, just sit back, listen to her sweet, sweet British voice and get ready to turn in .4 miles (or .64km for you).
we all miss you and know you're going to get through this temporary bout of despair and come out on the other side a stronger person, like you always do!
ReplyDelete