Vor allem eins, mein Kind, sei treu und wahr,

lass nie die Luge deinen Mund entweihen...

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About to begin packing for a weekend trip to the Southern region of our delightful country.  It'll be nice to be around good people and have a little break.  I realized the other day that I haven't left the city since early January!  Eek!  As much as I love the city, a gal needs a break every so often... so good.

So, for my 5 (ish) dedicated readers, no blog posts 'til next week...

Oh, Saturday night is a new moon.  I shall be gazing at night from the sands of a balmy beach.

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Strange thing happened on the way back from work today.  I was walking toward the good ol' 6 train and right as I crossed the street and man ran up toward me and goes, "Miss!  Where do you get your haircut?"  and I, being in a very "no B.S." kind of mood, said, "Seriously?  I potentially have the world's most boring haircut."  

Anyway, ends up this guy just opened up a kickass salon on 5th avenue and wants "beautiful girls" (ha! He said I have a "very unique look that drew him right in"...this guy knows how to work an angle) to help promote and do a few Friday events.  I was not feeling it until he mentioned free hair/face/body services for 6 months and free booze at the events (w/ DJs, fashion designers, etc.).  So...yes, I'm doing it.  And the guy it totally legit, too.  I had him (and his two co-workers) show me their business cards, give me a salon brochure (which I later googled and found, to my delight, it's an actual place), etc.  So, yay!  Just to let a couple guys take a stab at my hair and go to a few events, I get free services for 6 months.  Massage?  Um, yes please!

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"Lullaby 101"-- Kris Delmhorst

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Exciting!  I've been meaning to read "Olive Kitteridge" for a while... I guess i'll have to stick it somewhere in between the 12 books I actually have to read

http://www.pulitzer.org/awards/2009

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I think I've decided where I'm moving in August.  Manhattan still...but a much more Julia-esque area.  And I've also decided that in 2-3 years I will probably transition over to Brooklyn.

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Everyday I look around and realize how lucky I (we) are.

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A couple friends and I are searching for a good [cheap] cooking class in the city...feel free to toss out any suggestions!  I must confess, I've done zero research thus far, but I think we'll find something great.  

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"Is there any particular reason you're returning these items?"

"Um, yes.  General awkwardness...upon wearing."

HAHA, oh man...

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So many things to write, but I still have so much to do tonight and want to actually sleep a little before the plane ride...promise to be more exciting next week.  Ok, maybe not exciting, but prolific.

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And I now present to you the world's most ineloquent, raw "poem" [caution: explicit words will pop up on your screen...if that offends you, kindly click the little red X on the upper corner of this window]

But I couldn’t

In the midst
Of my hurt,
Rage, heart,
Indifference,
Absence,Insistence,
Everything
You; I
Was going
To write
A poem
Called Fuck
You.
I was going
To say things


Like:
Fuck you for doing this to me.
Fuck you for this pain.
Fuck you for making me care.
Fuck you for letting me fall.
Fuck you for being such a good liar.

Fuck you for doing it so much.

Fuck you for denying me.
Fuck you for hiding me.
Fuck you for making me question myself.
Fuck you for not telling me.
Fuck you for never caring enough.
Fuck you for coming over uninvited and
Fuck you for not doing it sooner.
Fuck you for being so dense.
Fuck you for making me feel like I’m not good enough.
Fuck you for not knowing me.

Fuck you for not letting me know you.
Fuck you for shutting me out.
Fuck you for letting me peer in.
Fuck you for being everything and nothing.

Fuck you for making me walk the tightrope.
Fuck you for making me say “fuck you” so many times.
Fuck you for spewing out empty words.
Fuck you for making me feel bad about writing this.

Fuck you for not giving a fuck.

But I didn’t write that poem.
Because
I could never say those things
To you.
Because the last thing
I’d ever want to do
Is hurt you.

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