nah

a non-stoned stoned thought i had last night upon spying a neon depiction of a skateboarding grim reaper glowing in a first-floor apartment window: 

hilarious and insane that all depictions of death we possess come from those who haven’t died yet 

UGh those pics were supposed to be three to a row. glad tumblr is still broken lol

have returned for annual bday post. 33 was BUMMMMMPY.

v. long post under the cut.

hi :) i am back from beyond the tumblr grave to do a little year end reflecting 

2020! lol! i started the year in seattle, rolling on mdma—first pic on my phone jan 1 is one of my fav friends from college stroking my face, which i had specifically requested, while i close my eyes in total rapture. [1] a great start, i thought, after my miserable 2019. then i was back on the west coast in late february because my very difficult uncle died suddenly (my mom now suspects it may have been covid which does not seem impossible to me) and i went back to help her clean out his apartment. then i flew down to california to see friends in berkeley and LA, plus visit palm springs for the first time, and then i came back, had time for a promising first and second date, and then it was the pandemic. 

i’ve been in nyc since then, with the exception of one short trip up to vermont last summer when the cases here were down to almost nothing and calculated risks seemed actually calculable, vs hope-and-a-prayer-able. and i’ve had it easier than so many—than most!—but of course it was still hard. 

i’ve lived alone for three and a half years, but this was the first time i regretted it. i got lonely! sick to death of my own company. afraid to be alone with my own thoughts, which tilted towards mortality and my flaws and failings, big and small. this summer dan moved out of walking distance and i was crushed. i kept thinking: friendships mean so much, but there’s a limit. at the end of the day i am single, and i am making decisions alone, still, at 32—how did my life turn out this way? after trying to deal with these feelings on my own, i finally said them out loud to dan. we were sitting on his stoop before the move and i cried with my head in his lap. he told me that we were family, and that if i had asked him not to move (to this expansive, cheap apartment right by prospect park, the unambiguously right choice) he wouldn’t have. that soothed me on many levels.

from mid-march to october i didn’t have sex, and the first time i slept with someone i felt myself tear up with gratitude and relief. i’ve been having a bad, prolonged bout of insomnia, and i am convinced it has something to do with receiving so little touch. the only period where i was really sleeping was the month or so when i was seeing someone regularly. he ghosted, which felt bad—not because i missed him specifically, but because i thought i had found a source of SKIN CONTACT that would get me through the winter. it’s ok! but it’s good information to have. i also feel more sure than i used to that i want a partner and kids. 

my friendships, by and large, feel strengthened. several old friendships that had waned the way old friendships often do returned as a daily presence in my life, which was a major source of comfort. some of my friendships suffered because of political differences! some friends in relationships (though not all) seemed to withdraw into the comfort of coupledom, and i felt a little abandoned, almost betrayed. many emotions felt heightened like that. 

i repaired my relationship w/ first (only) great love of my life (not m*x to be clear, college bf), and now we talk on the phone every sunday. i’m about to call him now! 

i look older and i like it. [2] i feel more like myself. 

work stuff was semi nuts. i got a part-time contract job in sept 2019 after a long bout of unemployment, doing largely admin work at a nonprofit, and in the ensuing year my boss was fired and i became the interim comms director. they were also down a development director, so i did some of that work, too. i asked for a lot of money and got some of it. i ghost wrote things for n*am ch*msky and j*dith b*tler, which i find extremely funny but also, tbh, cool. i was very nervous but i’m doing a really good job. (they want to give me a staff job and i am refusing for the sake of freedom.) 

i’m making the most money i’ve ever made by a LOT, so for the last few months i’ve been paying off debt very quickly while also buying a few things that have improved my day-to-day quality of life (a space heater, nice slippers, new underwear, a big giant warm coat). i also feel like i can give my friends money and donate pretty freely without worrying about it, and it’s obviously great timing for that. 

in addition to taking on this weird new job, i did a couple other things in 2020 that scared the shit out of me. every time i did something that required courage it got easier. i would tell myself: just do it, you’re not a coward! and there was more and more evidence to back me up.

the single best thing that happened to me in 2020 (besides approaching financial solvency) was coming up with a writing accountability system with dan. today marks 100 days; we’ve helped each other write 10,000+ words of fiction we wouldn’t have otherwise. miya and i just started a similar system for small amounts of daily exercise. it’s the only thing keeping me even remotely on track. 

last year around this time i wrote, “i am pretty good at being a reliable presence in other people’s lives; in 2020 i would like to become a person i can trust. themes for the new year: discipline, habits, art, love, joy.” i got there, basically! minus the joy, but...i’ll grade that on the curve. and the answer was there all along. it’s comparatively so easy to write 250 words every day because i am doing it “for” dan. i didn’t develop discipline—i actually think i have less of it now, because it takes a lot to just get through the day sometimes—but my friendships have given me the ability to stay on track. 

i published absolutely nothing this year, but my novel manuscript is going well. i’m going to have a completed draft in the next 5-6 months. i’m reasonably confident that i will sell it and i’m proud that i have not given up. 

things i learned: 

things that were always the right choice, even (especially) when i resisted them: 

goals for next year:

(photos below the fold)

hey everyone miss u 

today i am glad trump isn’t dead yet :) 

hahahhhahhahAHAHAHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

i realize this is humiliating in its naiveté, but it still shocks me to watch people who spent their teens obsessed with art become adults and instead become obsessed with money

no amount of being talked to is enough being talked to! 

very strange and humbling to feel socially needy for the first time since high school 

it’s been strange and novel, these last few months, to feel lonely. before covid i hadn’t really felt loneliness since high school, or maybe early college. it’s 5pm here, i’m thinking about dinner. i’m thinking: i cannot possibly eat another meal alone. i can’t do it! but there’s something about this current loneliness that’s like being so overtired i can’t sleep. i sort of can’t bring myself to make a plan that would ameliorate it. or maybe, more accurately, i just don’t know what might help. 

on friday i had dinner with a friend on my roof. yesterday i saw my closest friend for an hours-long walk through prospect park. this morning i took a long walk in my neighborhood with another friend. just got off a zoom call with a mutual aid group i’m a part of—my friends, mostly! and yet i feel loneliness as an actual, physical ache in my chest. living alone feels bad for the first time ever. i don’t know what other changes i can make; i don’t know why i feel this way when i’m able to safely see so many people i love; i don’t know what to do. 

at the present moment i have basically no interest in talking to my friends who don’t fit into at least one of the following categories: depressed, artist, broke 

unexpected delectable flavor combination? avocado + sauerkraut, you heard it here first 

sorry this is just a sunset blog now

hey pals

last night barely felt real