Moving Day: 6/3/16

The Men I Dated Next (to publish upon leaving town)

After My Big Heartbreak last summer, I couldn't imagine sitting across the table with another man and feeling attracted/attractive/happy/hopeful again. At first I needed some time to be by myself, to practice self-care and mourn the loss of what had been so far my greatest love, but eventually just like Stella I finally got my groove back. I am so glad I did because this is who I met:


The 8 answers I keep giving (on repeat):

1. Denver, Colorado!
2. I'm ready for a new adventure.
3. No, I don't have a job yet.
4. No, I don't have an apartment yet.
5. Yes, I do have some friends and family there.
6. Yes, I am sad to leave New York.
7. 5 and a half years.
8. Thanks so much!

--End Scene--


The Visible and The In

By: Marge Piercy

Some people move through your life
like the perfume of peonies, heavy
and sensual and lingering.

Some people move through your life
like the sweet musky scent of cosmos
so delicate if you sniff twice, it’s gone.

Some people occupy your life
like moving men who cart off
couches, pianos and break dishes.

Some people touch you so lightly you
are not sure it happened. Others leave
you flat with footprints on your chest.

Some are like those fall warblers
you can’t tell from each other even
though you search Petersen’s.

Some come down hard on you like
a striking falcon and the scars remain
and you are forever wary of the sky.

We all are waiting rooms at bus
stations where hundreds have passed
through unnoticed and others

have almost burned us down
and others have left us clean and new
and others have just moved in.


That's Why

Five years ago when people asked me why I was moving to New York, the best answer I could give was, "Because it's New York, that's why." It sounds a little arrogant now looking back, but for the most part, people understood what I meant. New York is the epicenter of art, business, culture, fashion (and all the other sections of the NYTimes), and so it didn't take a lot of explaining when I told people I was leaving SD for NY. But now I'm getting asked that same question about my upcoming move to Denver. "Why Denver?" I am asked. I'm finding the answer to be harder to nail down.

So I thought about it, and here's why

...Because I grew up on the prairie and then moved to the city, and now, as they say, "the mountains are calling and I must go."
...Because I crave a fresh start and fresher air.
...Because I want to be closer to home, closer to my mom and her cat and our lake cabin and an airport that I can fly directly into.
...Because the male to female ratio in Denver is in. my. favor.
...Because I went on a Colorado hike with LS in October that helped mend me back together, and LS said to me, "Here we just call that Saturday."
...Because I'm ready to trade my job for a career, my wings for roots.
...Because New York City was never my destination, just a necessary layover on my path to find it/me/you.


"If you grew up around alcoholism, one of the first things you learned to do was agree not to see what was really going on."

--Anne Lamott

Too Many Bees

One night about six months ago, I had a dream that we were on a trip together, in a wooded area in Latvia. We were in a tourist group led by my Colombian friend Santiago, and we were climbing over rocks and leaves and broken branches. We stumbled upon a part in the trail where there was a massive swarm of bees that we had no choice but to walk through. I could physically feel hundreds of bees bouncing off my skin, arms, face, and I looked to you knowing that these tiny stinging bugs were your biggest fear. I saw terror in your eyes, and for a moment you reminded me of my father. You looked like a small boy, in the frame of a 31 (now 32) year-old-man. I opened up a big black umbrella and I promised you that if you took cover with me, I would protect you from them. I'd get you through the bees. We tried to use the umbrella as a shield, and I used my body to cover yours as best as I could, but it didn't work. I couldn't protect, shield, save you. I woke up knowing that this would always be true for us, and you knew it too. You knew it first. The swarm was too big.



  “…quite simply, I was in love with New York. I do not mean "love" in any colloquial way, I mean that I was in love with the city, the way you love the first person who ever touches you and you never love anyone quite that way again. I remember walking across Sixty-second Street one twilight that first spring, or the second spring, they were all alike for a while. I was late to meet someone but I stopped at Lexington Avenue and bought a peach and stood on the corner eating it and knew that I had come out out of the West and reached the mirage. I could taste the peach and feel the soft air blowing from a subway grating on my legs and I could smell lilac and garbage and expensive perfume and I knew that it would cost something sooner or later—because I did not belong there, did not come from there”  
― Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem


See ya, 2015

2015 has been like a visiting house guest, wonderfully welcome at first followed by an inevitable relational conflict, and ending with a warm hug but an under-the-breath "get the fuck out of here." 2015 came, she hurt, she healed, and now I want her to get the fuck out of here. But first, let's recap.

I spent the first half of 2015 with a tall, bearded man who taught me how to properly mince a scallion, how to play chess (kinda), and most significantly how it felt to be really loved. In the months that followed, we shared so much with each other: entrĂ©es, stories, blankets, bottles of wine. I had someone to say good night to every night, and I was devastated when those "good nights" ended so abruptly. A lot of bad nights followed, but the people I love most in life swooped in, and quite frankly, saved me. My mom came to stay for a long weekend to help me pack, and my Brooklyn lady tribe helped me, literally and figuratively, move on. On July 1st, I moved back to Downing St with two new roommates who I knew instantly after meeting that I would love. The rest of the summer was spent going to the beach with friends, drinking too much in the sunshine, and trying my best to take care of myself. Then, so many visitors and trips.. In August, my Theta crew came to visit. In September, I went to Boston to see KG and ND. In October, I flew to Denver for KS's wedding and to see LS. In November I went back to South Dakota for my dad's memorial jam, and EH came to town over Thanksgiving weekend. In between those busy weekends away, I had many dinners with ELM and her family, and I went to concerts, took mandolin lessons, and saw the pope! I went on some bad, some ok, and a couple really good dates with bearded Brooklyn boys (it's no secret I have a type). I laughed so much, cried a little less, and probably drank more than is recommended by most dietary guidelines.  At the end of the day and at the end of this year, I'm just so outrageously grateful to have such fun, generous, kind people* around me. Also, that I dodged one hell of a bullet.

Zora Neale Hurston once wrote, "There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” Here's to hoping for a brand new year of answers, because man-oh-man was 2015 a head scratcher!

*GG, LJK, SS, CH, CS, MA, EH, JK, MMC, MC, HR, ELM, RS, ET, DB, VR, LS, TBK, CS, AO, KT, KS, KG, ND, KB, TS, SD, PP, AL, DL, KA, AH, LC, JT (you all know who you are)