meh
I want to look back on these last few entries in a years time and be like "Dude, I'm so glad I stuck to my guns. I'm totally where I want/need to be." That would be so book.
(this will sound silly to say but I don't care): I'm really glad I know a messload of people. It makes me feel less guilty talking to people about my problems because I don't necessarily see all of them every day. Like today for example. I ran into Mike (this kid I met through Jaclyn this summer) and he was really encouraging about me going to NYC (despite his hatred for the city). Like, if this kid I don't even know super well thinks I have what it takes to get the job done, I guess these other people who know me super well and tell me that really aren't just trying to be nice.
Ever since I was a little girl I wanted to move to NYC, start with nothing and work my way up. That was before I realized just how much I already have. I don't know if I'm ready to be stripped of my middle-class-ness yet. Actually I know for a fact that I'm not ready to be stripped of that yet. Guess I'm going to have to get over it, huh?
2 weeks. 2 freaking weeks. Ok maybe like 15ish days? Whatever. Still has me uppity.
Gotta be stubborn. Gotta keep my eyes on the prize. Gotta keep dreaming. It's the only way I ever survive.
Dreams of lawnchairs/butterfly chairs on rooftops, with baristabot (the mug, not the boy in Orlando whom I adore, that will come later), looking at the city that I've dreamt of my whole life. Or better yet: my own fire escape. I'm such a nerd, I know it already. Frankly, I don't care what you think. This is all I've wanted. I'm totally expecting an In America kind of experience right off the bat (well not exactly, but the struggle with survival part, yes). Seriously, it's all I can do right now to keep myself from just going there now and sleeping on park benches in Union Square.
Oh man, Union Square. I miss you, crazy protestors.
God, I miss you New York.
(this will sound silly to say but I don't care): I'm really glad I know a messload of people. It makes me feel less guilty talking to people about my problems because I don't necessarily see all of them every day. Like today for example. I ran into Mike (this kid I met through Jaclyn this summer) and he was really encouraging about me going to NYC (despite his hatred for the city). Like, if this kid I don't even know super well thinks I have what it takes to get the job done, I guess these other people who know me super well and tell me that really aren't just trying to be nice.
Ever since I was a little girl I wanted to move to NYC, start with nothing and work my way up. That was before I realized just how much I already have. I don't know if I'm ready to be stripped of my middle-class-ness yet. Actually I know for a fact that I'm not ready to be stripped of that yet. Guess I'm going to have to get over it, huh?
2 weeks. 2 freaking weeks. Ok maybe like 15ish days? Whatever. Still has me uppity.
Gotta be stubborn. Gotta keep my eyes on the prize. Gotta keep dreaming. It's the only way I ever survive.
Dreams of lawnchairs/butterfly chairs on rooftops, with baristabot (the mug, not the boy in Orlando whom I adore, that will come later), looking at the city that I've dreamt of my whole life. Or better yet: my own fire escape. I'm such a nerd, I know it already. Frankly, I don't care what you think. This is all I've wanted. I'm totally expecting an In America kind of experience right off the bat (well not exactly, but the struggle with survival part, yes). Seriously, it's all I can do right now to keep myself from just going there now and sleeping on park benches in Union Square.
Oh man, Union Square. I miss you, crazy protestors.
God, I miss you New York.