my new york

my new york is 3000 miles of distance from the west coast set of exes, who i secretly miss. it is exactly two strips of veggie bacon for dinner because I am believe i am failing art history and science. it is paying $40000 a year to feel bad about myself and going out every weekend to get that confidence back. it's meeting a lame dj and going home with him anyway because everyone knows djs get the best drugs. it's meeting a 2L in a moment of vulnerability and finding out he’s never heard of carlos casteneda and that he just wants a blow job while he spouts dreams of becoming a corporate law-whore. it's sneaking off to the lower east side on a Sunday night to avoid my ex and instead finding him locked out of his apartment. its hanging out with NY other best friend and trying to decide if her elusive roommate is gay, selling drugs or just weird.

my new york is heels on the sidewalk in the rain because it's fashion week and there are no taxis. it's going to the west end at midnight for free drinks with my roommate cuz I’ve just been dumped and randomly meeting a bunch of electricians who invite us in their limo to crobar where we drink free dom and dance on tables. it's learning to say no politely, learning how to dress for cold, actually checking the weather. giving up smoking and starting again during spring finals. getting up every day at 3 am to host a radio show that six people listen to.

my new york is taking country music history and meeting my mentor if only I was brave enough to send her some of my work. it's mailing photoshopped watercolors all over the country and making $75 at a student vendor fair in macintosh while trying to get my jewelry line off the ground.it's my LA best friend flying in bimonthly to keep tabs on her east coast cohorts. it's not having a dog and learning to drink coffee while I walk quickly to the subway. my new york is talking to my friends in California who have real projects going on in their lives and realizing that if I was home I wouldn’t be going anywhere. It's trying to remember that college will open doors.

it’s also the haunted memory of the quad before I was hospitalized for severe depression in 2000 because the only way I used to handle stress was to rip open my veins over and over. it’s the aching feeling of knowing that the only way out is through and that school will never be as painful as another empty suicide attempt. it’s the hope that I will finish before I collapse and the promise of the biggest motherfucking graduation party ever. it’s the reality that i would like to get a college degree at some point and the gratitude I have for my family for giving me another chance. it's never ever giving up my love for the lakers. it's getting lost in queens while driving to the city for the very first time, watching a fiery sun descend into the pink haze above new jersey from my 10th floor apartment, counting bacteria in hudson river water samples and staying up all night talking to my cousin about numerology and why investment in haiti is so difficult. it's standing in a piss-filled elevator in the projects and scoring awesome chanel knockoffs down in chinatown. it's water towers on buildings and fire escapes and lots and lots of bricks but no earthquakes.