i’d love to go drowning, and to stay & to stay, but the ocean doesn’t want me today.

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hello from new york. i’m at my dad’s house and it’s like 8 AM and i’m waiting patiently for my stepmother to go to work so i can use the washing machine–oh, to be 28 and sneak around like a drug addict for something as simple and innocent as washing clothes. everyone likes washing clothes, right? unless you’re kinda ocd and passive aggressive. sigh. i committed the crime, yesterday, of turning off the air conditioner when no one was home and today, as retribution, it’s cranked up (down?) to 65! ugh.
new york’s been really fun thus far, although tinged with a weird sadness. like 1/2 “i hate american consumer culture” mixed with 1/4 “i miss my cute little house and my cute little boyfriend” mixed with 1/8 “ugh site of many bad memories” and 1/8 “why is my family basically never there for me when i need them?”
but, despite all that, i’ve been having fun. swimming in the murky polluted atlantic/bay every day and even though it’s kind of sad, it feels like home, it unlocks some sort of key in my heart.

(i look kinda grim in this picture, but i was actually really happy, despite being freshly made fun of for my hairy pits. this was taken before i got my gnarly-ass spray-sunblock burn, where i have patches of white & red all over, because i believed the stupid bottle when it said you could just spray it on & you don’t have to rub it in. fuck you, spray sunblock!)
it was my mom’s birthday and she wanted to go on this bizarre fund-raiser boat for her favorite public radio station. it was a shipful of middle aged public radio nerds, plus me & my sister. we were initially dismayed about this fact, but then once we realized that we could do whatever we wanted & not feel judged we felt a lot better.

we all got kinda drunk, which is weird for me, since i haven’t gotten legitimately tipsy in at least a year. my mom was hilarious and dancing wildly on the front of the ship:

i mostly just looked at all the lights and thought about the city. i missed it and i didn’t.

when we passed under the brooklyn bridge, my mom told me about my great-grandpa’s stories of building the brooklyn bridge, how the process of mixing and pouring cement was unstoppable for some reason, and so if someone fell into the columns, they just died, there was no pulling them out. how the brooklyn bridge, for him, was a gravesite, because he knew which bodies it contains. intense!
it was a really good night, strange & beautiful.
yesterday i went to the ocean, got sunburned, and realized that i am now afraid of the ocean. i never used to be. but when even a slightly large wave came in i would scream. i stood on the edge for so long, waiting to feel okay.

it’s weird, because when i was a little kid, and scared of everything, i wasn’t afraid of the ocean, and now i am terrified. imagining rip tides and such. i mean, i still went in, it just wasn’t as much fun as it usually is.

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