I spent last night at a party in Brooklyn. I had a really fun and adventurous time, ending up nowhere near the starting point. My sober body somehow felt drunk by association and I was surrounded with the leftovers of a Bret Easton Ellis novel.
So I think I'm over New York. It's too comfortable and predictable. If we were dating, this would be the time in the relationship I would get bored and move onto someone new. With a nicer personality. And a better haircut.
Much of my newfound revelations have been validated in the past 24 hours. It's surreal to finally know who I am and who I want to be. It's even more remarkable how quickly things can change.
I've been back from northern California for a couple of days now. My trip was nice and relaxing, with only a few moments filled with anxiety. I should win an award for getting lost...I am just that good at it. Most of my time was spent with an assortment of cats and quality sunny days There were kamakaze kites, healthy fast food, fun new people to meet, and incredible views.
It's hard not to fall in love with California. The landscapes are nearly perfect, it makes snow seem like blasphemy. I like the general positive, laid-back mentality. Every person seems fascinating. I forget how rigid and tense New York City makes me feel sometimes...lots of people rushing around, never really slowing down to feel alive.
I didn't go to Bay to Breakers. Seeing the leftover people in their costumes only made me slightly regretful. Well, there's always next year. Fortunately I had the option to see the new Indiana Jones movie and attend the luncheon afterwards (free drinks and movie sets). The movie for the most part was amazing. It's an easy movie to get lost in. Not much substance. I thought the sci-fi twists were too generic and didn't fit with the rest of franchise. On my last day I got a tour of LucasArts, a subsidiary of Lucasfilm Limited . There was a lot of memorabilia to "ooh" and "aah" at. I was a kid in a candy shop.
*I went to CA carrying along the theory that most single American men live on the west coast and most single American women live on the east coast. It turns out to be very true and that's all I'm divulging.
I got a call from my sister today. She invited me to come to San Francisco in a week, just in time to be a part of the Bay to Breakers marathon on May 18th. So I'm being spontaneous and going...well, if I can actually get through to the airline to redeem flight credit. Dealing with airlines makes me want to pull my hair out strand by individual strand. The Bay to Breakers is a footrace about 7 1/2 miles long. It's more than a marathon, it's a big wild costume parade as well. There is this well known group of gentlemen, called BARE TO BREAKERS, that run the entire path completely naked (except for their footwear). I asked my sister how running naked through the streets was OK and she responded "well, it IS San Fransisco".Man, I miss the west coast.
My sister and her friends are dressing in their best 1980's day-glo, flashdance, MC Hammer parachute pants glory. I don't know what I'll be yet.
I spent last night at a party in Brooklyn. I had a really fun and adventurous time, ending up nowhere near the starting point. My sober body somehow felt drunk by association and I was surrounded with the leftovers of a Bret Easton Ellis novel.
