For the last year and a half, I've felt like a person who is not this one. I've been practically homeless, crashing in boyfriend's bed, or boss's couch, or buddy's bodega. It's been pretty depressing, and it's definitely affected my blog, because I haven't really had a steady place to write e-mail, or write anything for that matter.
I'm very thrilled right now to have found an apartment and moved into it. I feel like a completely different person - the one that used to exist like, two or three years ago, before Kurt and I split up. Back in those days, I had a home with a bed, and a dresser, and I had my stuff set up the way I like it, with my make up in a special container, and my towels on hooks and silverware in a drawer. Those are little things that you take for granted when you are essentially homeless. Though they aren't so important, they are things that make you feel settled, like, "This is my place." You can't have that kind of security from the front pouch of a back pack, or when you're wondering what that scuffy white spot is on your friend's comforter, when you already know god damn well what it is.
When people think of the homeless, they think of dudes with drawers full of feces, or people who live in Underground Caves, like in Demolition Man starring Sandra Bullock and Sylvester Stallone. But they don't consider the thousands of people in NYC who are crashing on friend's couches or floors, sleeping in rent by the week rooms, or hopping night to night into various assorted lover's beds. If you consider that, you actually are probably quite friendly with many homelesses.
So, it feels really great to be happy again. The way my bed is set up, the sunlight comes filtering through my huge windows all over me. It wakes me up every morning at 9:30 am, and that's kind of cool. I've been sleeping until noon or one for the last year, because I know that when I wake up, I'll be back in life again. But I have good reason to want to wake up early now, because I have lots of work to catch up on. My bed is so cozy, too, with a soft egg crate thingy on it, and tons of soft pillows and a huge comforter. My boyfriend is warm and cuddly, like a pet, until he speaks. There's a huge balcony in my apt. that is about twenty feet long. There's a space to put a swing, which I will do very soon, and at night all the buildings downtown glow and shimmer, as if my life is perfect. There's even an asian neon sign out my balcony view. Asian neon? How can life get any better than that?
Wor fay chung gao sing. That means, "I'm extremely happy," in Mandarin, Liam M.
I guess being happy isn't conducive to good comedy, but don't worry. Things are going so great, I know that something HORRIBLE is looming around the corner. Hopefully I'll live through it and bounce back to turn it into a musical hit, or a musical shit. But either way, hopefully there will be music involved.