Wednesday, September 27, 2006

2 days off and I've never felt more rested in my life!

Yesterday was my first day off in a really long time and I spent it on me. Shocking concept. I slept in, did laundry, scrubbed my bathroom, watched TV, did a little shopping. And I feel more rested today than I have in FOREVER. I have a lot to do for Fall Collection today, and I know I won't finish. But I can get a big jump on it. And have some mental/emotional rest.

Having my coffee on the roof this morning, I was thinking about the huge pile of give away stuff and how that type writer is still under my bed and how I wonder if Flynn still wants it and how Flynn said I am supposed to write stories in the manner of 33 1/3 but around Flavors instead of musics and I got to thinking about writing about flavors or around flavors or infused with flavors and how to even go about starting to write with coconut lime in mind and how I miss more creative writings and about how good I was in high school and how I was always in honors and AP classes and was always touted as one of the best in my classes and about how once I got to college that all completely disappeared from my life and about how everything I wrote in college was so clinical and dry and about how I haven't written anything very stylish at all and about how much I miss it and about how I am giving myself a homework assignment. I have a blank notebook that I appropriated from Premier and in that notebook, I will execute this self imposed homework assignment. My goal is to, each week, pick a flavor, brainstorm what that flavor invokes in me, and write a story around a flavor. Yes, I know. Cliche. Flavor of the week. But really. I am going to reward myself for getting caught up on TFC by the end of September by giving myself this writing exercise starting in October.

For the last few weeks I was wondering: how long would it take for people to notice if I disappeared one day without warning? Just wondering.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Dear Friends

Here's what I've said to them already, as gently as possible, but I wish I could say to them in a more frying-pan-over-the-head kind of way. I'm writing it down here just to get it out.

Dear Devon and Liz,

Just stop. Both of you. Stop and grow up and let it go and move on. The rest of us can't take the drama and we will not be forced to take sides. We love you both differently and you need to stop creating conflict in what could be a really fun and supportive group. Devon, joking around about stealing Joel way back when made Liz uncomfortable. So apologize for misjudging her sense of humor and stepping over the line with things like the pancake whipped cream messages and other comments. We know you made them totally in jest, but they hurt Liz’s feelings so you should apologize for that. Stop being so self righteous and stubborn and admit that maybe you shouldn't have said those things and say you're sorry and then let it go. Liz, stop being so insecure. Devon isn't really out to get your boyfriend- she was only joking. Devon wants to be your friend and thought that as friends, she could joke around and you would understand that she meant no actual harm. Stop jumping on her every time you start to feel insecure. Devon really isn't your enemy, so please say you're sorry for taking out your insecurities on her and then let it go. Both of you- stop being so judgmental of each other. Stop acting like catty girls. Start loving each other as friends.

Please. As I've said, we love you both and want to be able to have fun with you, but this has been going on for a while now and has escalated to the point where you're not talking to each other at all and instead complaining about each other to the rest of us on the sidelines. If you guys can't get it together, the rest of us are going to have to act accordingly (i.e. we'll probably all move to Costa Rica) and then you'll both end up feeling worse, I can pretty much guarantee it.

Love you. Mean it. Now get it together.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

I miss him more than I've ever missed anyone else

I remember the last time I saw him. It was his going away party on his roof at 125th and Amsterdam and he was so drunk and stoned and giggly and yet I could see the knowing sadness in his eyes because I had that same knowing sadness and it was pulling my heart through my throat. Saying goodbye that night would probably mean we'd never see each other again in our lives. I knew it and it killed me and there was nothing I could do about it.

We were together less than a year, but went through so much together. He was the first for a lot of things for me and taught me so much about being comfortable with myself. He was the first person to make me feel smart and unique and valuable. He was the first person I ever let myself become completely vulnerable to. He was the first person I loved- the first time I felt anything more significant than infatuation. I lost my virginity to him (about which he recently said, "I only wish we knew what we were doing back then... not that our clumsy fumbling wasn't lots of fun"). Not long after we broke up, his dad was in the accident that ended up taking his life. Tony told me he wanted me there, so despite the uncomfortable hatred I knew I'd be facing from his mom (and also from my friend Missy. Weird situation that sort of made things real sour for a time being after), we went to be with him in the hospital waiting room. Our break up was rough, and we were as utterly in love as you could be at 17. He was the first person I'd ever cared about so deeply and he's the one I always end up comparing everyone else to. And most of the time, they don't hold up. He's probably the reason I think I'll never get married. It's not a "my heart is so broken I never want anyone else" kind of thing. It's more like I have this ideal in my head and it's slightly disfunctional and I realize that it's probably not all that ideal at all really for making a go at something life-long, and I don't think I could handle a life-long commitment anyway.

He's shaped me more than he will ever know and sometimes it's tremendously hard to be so far away from him. I realize that I probably rarely cross his mind and that's ok. But I do miss him terribly and wish he still lived here so we could sit around all night watching Bollywood movies, narating them ourselves until we're delirious at 5 in the morning. I wanted to kiss him so badly that night but I was too scared, given our history. We were finally friends again, after having no contact for 6 years, and I knew he would be leaving NY when he finished school and I wanted to be able to have my good friend as well as I could while I could. But every once in a while, I wonder if I should have just done it and I start to regret holding back.

Sometimes I think I've always been in love with him and that I forever will be.