Que Sera Sera


Hey, internet. I’m not gonna lie: things have been hard lately. Things are tight, things are stressed, things are out of our control completely, and I’ve been having a pretty rough go of it. I don’t want to get into it too much here, and I almost didn’t post this, but the last time I posted was several weeks ago, and a bunch of nice people sent me emails about where I could find some dresses, and things have been so overwhelming recently I have a hard time replying to emails. I’m sorry about that, because the people who read my website seem like really kind and supportive people, and tend to get excited and happy for me when I’m excited and happy, and you all deserve to have friendly and prompt replies to your friendly and helpful emails. But man, I’m sorry, it’s just not happening right now. I’m having a hard time just staying out of bed these days.

I know that things will eventually get better because that’s how things go, and in the meantime I’m still lucky every single day to have a roof over my head and wake up next to Nick, who makes me meals and strokes my hair and knows exactly the right way to rub someone’s back when they’re sad (with the flat of your palm, in those wide circles right between your shoulder blades, like your mom used to do when you couldn’t fall asleep). But I miss my friends, I miss New York, I miss being able to make plans. I miss having fun.

I also miss being able to thank all the wonderful people who help us on a daily basis by doing something nice in return, which I’d usually do by buying them a beer, or sending them a little present or card. When those options are removed, you feel like a child. I know it’s probably not that big a deal to anyone but me, but right now we’re very dependent on the kindness of our loved ones, and it’s really difficult for me not to be able do those normally small gestures to show gratitude. Okay, I didn’t mean to get this into all of this here. Anyway. Big, good things are hopefully coming, but they’re so far down the road I can’t even see them yet, and in the meantime, I’d just like to be able to buy a friend a drink. I’d also like to be able to buy myself a drink, but first things first.

Our favorite form of entertainment lately is lying in bed and saying “tell me a story,” which just means listing things that we’ll do one day when we’re normal people who have money and our own place. It’s basically a catalog of places we’ll go, things we’ll eat or buy, and places we’ll have sex. It’s usually goes like this: “We’ll wake up and have coffee and fresh-squeezed orange juice. No, wait! We’ll go out for brunch! No, we’ll just stay in and make breakfast, but we’ll have real bacon and real orange juice and good coffee, in bed. Then we’ll get dressed and go out, and buy more coffee that we’ll just drink on the street, like celebrities. Maybe meet friends for lunch somewhere? And then we’ll go to a shop and buy a record! And maybe a bottle of wine! And take them both back to our apartment, and listen to the record while we drink the wine! And maybe order Chinese.” Dreams, people. You need dreams.

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