I'm happy right now. Everything might just be alright in the world.
On the subway, felt so peaceful on the walk over; something fitting.

You know what my last blog post reminded me of just now?
In one of my favorite books, "The History of Love" by Nicole Krauss,

"2. WHAT I AM NOT
My brother and I used to play a game. I'd point to a chair. "THIS IS NOT A CHAIR," I'd say. Bird would point to the table. "THIS IS NOT A TABLE." "THIS IS NOT A WALL," I'd say. "THAT IS NOT A CEILING." We'd go on like that. "IT IS NOT RAINING OUT." "MY SHOE IS NOT UNTIED!" Bird would yell. I'd point to my elbow. "THIS IS NOT A SCRAPE." Bird would lift his knee. "THIS IS ALSO NOT A SCRAPE!" "THAT IS NOT A KETTLE!" "NOT A CUP!" "NOT A SPOON!" "NOT DIRTY DISHES!" We denied whole rooms, years, weathers. Once, at the peak of our shouting, Bird took a deep breath. At the top of his lungs, he shrieked: "I! HAVE NOT! BEEN! UNHAPPY! MY WHOLE! LIFE!" "But you're only seven," I said."

New lomographic photos...

I would like to apologize to the future me, and potential readers, for this post in advance.
Life is painful, but lately I've been comparing post-graduate life to getting your teeth pulled.
It's easier to curl into one's own shell and be distant and petty and self-focused. I believe people are like that by nature, and fight to be better their whole lives.
People I love, I cannot ask you to be better to me. That will only show my need for you, and that's not what you need- it will only push you farther away. So until you realize it yourself, I'll just take it in stride.

SOMEDAY, MR. FRED, YOU TAKE THIS BOOK,
TURN IT INTO A NOVEL. EVERYTHING IS THERE. JUST FILL IN THE DETAILS.

WOULD BE GOOD FOR SOME LAUGHS.

NO. NO, I DON'T THINK SO.
THIS IS A BOOK WOULD BREAK THE HEART.
"MR. FITZSIMMONS-- POWDER ROOM, $50.
"LESS $18--REPAIR ONE BLACK SATIN DRESS.
CAT FOOD, 27 CENTS."

SALLY, DARLING, PLEASE STOP. YOU'RE MAKING ME BLUSH.
BUT YOU'RE RIGHT ABOUT JACK FITZSIMMONS. HE'S AN ABSOLUTE RAT.
BUT I GUESS, OF COURSE, I DON'T KNOW ANYBODY BUT RATS.

EXCEPT, OF COURSE, FRED HERE.
YOU DO THINK FRED IS NICE, DON'T YOU?

FOR YOU... I HOPE HE IS.

chaaanges

I was standing, drinking coffee for breakfast, in the spot where my dad and I took my graduation photo earlier this year, and saw this ad. Right under the Madison Square Garden sign.

throwback to 2004

redoing my portfolio i came a lot of old, still applicable images. enjoy

Somewhere in between graduation and right now, I got lost. I had an amazing relationship. I had interned at Cosmopolitan Magazine, the NY Historical Society, and HBO. I was the New School Graphic Designer, earning money while going to classes and taking care of my cat. I had a nice studio apartment in the Village that I lived in for years. I was acting.
And these past few months, I've been in a pretentious existential disillusioned funk a la Dustin Hoffman in "the Graduate", knowing that whatever I do now really affects the rest of my life and not wanting to accept it.
So, instead of staying at home watching tv, or backpacking through Europe, or going straight into a job. I lost sight of my boarding school and NY college education. I let myself look at my little brother being at Oxford and my roommate getting engaged as things I could have but didn't want. But I was wrong. I want it all. From here on out I vow to focus on me. I am capable of it all, have been trained too, and deserve it all back, and more. I'm remaking my design portfolio, went over my resume with Kitty last night, have a good agent and am not talking to anyone other than my old friends (who I've known for at least 4 years) and my family. All else is distraction.

These things take forever
I especially am slow
But I realize that I need you
And I wondered if I could come home