This is August.
I don't blog, and I don't blog, and I don't blog, and BAM.. one post all about the whole month.
This is that.
This is August.
On August 1st I woke up to a text from my mom that said, "August is going to be your month. I can feel it!" Well... she was kind of wrong. August started out rough--I didn't get the job I had intervied for and really wanted, and DB moved away, and things just got messy and weird all over the place. But people hugged me and defended me, and Tylenol PM helped me sleep when I otherwise couldn't. SS told me I could have a pity party until my birthday party, and that's exactly what I did. A week and a half later, I put back on my big girl pants and turned 28.
Turning 28 turned out to be pretty awesome! My bday celebrating spanned from a birthday surprise at work (with pizza from ELM!) to an impromptu Saturday afternoon picnic with a champagne/vitamin water cocktail with the girls. Saturday night I put on a pink slip dress (held up by the sticky part of Command hooks--it was all I could find!), and the friends I've collected in the past 3 years all came out to buy me drinks and tacos at a beer garden backyard in Williamsburg. On Sunday, the actual date of my birthday, I spent a good part of the day "recovering" we can call it... but I perked up in time for one lovely dinner on the roof of a sweet spot in BK. I mention all of this all not to brag but instead to express gratitude for how lucky I am! If my bday weekend is any indication of how this 28th year will be, I'm in good shape. Thank you all.
A week after that I went back to South Dakota for my dear gf MM's wedding (and to "reverse the curse"). I had a few travel issues (story still being drafted), but man, that weekend was amaaaazing. I got three really great roadtrip conversations out of the weekend (16+ hours in a car will do that), and I got to watch my beautiful friend marry her person! I laughed big laughs and took deep breaths of fresh air. I skinned my knees while doing an air guitar solo at the wedding dance. It was everything I needed, and I flew back to NYC with clear eyes and a full heart (CAN'T LOSE). Also, I remembered my luggage this time.
Last weekend was spent almost entirely in my empty apartment, in my underwear, drinking wine, watching Beyoncé videos and Ryan Gosling movies. I know, I know, it sounds like such a cliché single-girl weekend, but it kind of was. And it was kind of awesome. On Saturday afternoon, I put on actual clothes and went with SS, CH, and CS to Afro Punk Fest. It's almost impossible for me to fully describe the event (the fashion, music, art, etc), but let's just say.. I felt very very vanilla. People kept asking me to get out of the way so they could take pictures of people who looked like this. It was still awesome, despite my crackerness. We hula hooped. I went to a double bday party in Manhattan at night and took cabs to and from because apparently, I am a baller. On Sunday I made rice crispy bars.
The final weekend of August, Labor Day weekend, got kicked off in such a bizzare, lovely, tender and hilarious way. My dear friend HR just lost her beloved this week, after a heartbreaking battle with colon cancer. We decided to meet up on Friday night for Chinatown dumplings and massages. The environment for the dumplings was hilarious.. communal tables and shouting servers and amidst the chaos and the noise and the smells, HR and I sat close to each other and talked about the shadows of grief and heartache. We laughed at the absurdity of it all, but still a few tears fell. Next we went to our massage appt at a questionable hidden away spot off Canal St and realized that HR had accidentally signed us up for couples massages. Again we giggled uncontrollably but also shrugged our shoulders and got down to our skivvies for 1 hour of the kind of massage where the person climbed on top of the table. The whole experience/night was like that massage, deep and a little painful, but also a little hilarious and deeply necessary. That night I slept like a dumpling filled baby. Saturday I met MW and the W gang (and LN and her babe) and the BK Bridge for pizza, and again we reunited for dinner on the rooftop of Eatily. Though we had a snarky server and a bus boy who bused before we were finished, we laughed and drank and I gave a Tinder tutorial to the table. Afterward MW and I went to a bar called the Trailer Park for a nightcap, and we talked more about boys and Denver and a bunch of super feminist things. We may have snuck a selfie or two. Sunday, the Lord's day, I did laundry and babysat.
And then that was it.
That was August.
This is that.
This is August.
On August 1st I woke up to a text from my mom that said, "August is going to be your month. I can feel it!" Well... she was kind of wrong. August started out rough--I didn't get the job I had intervied for and really wanted, and DB moved away, and things just got messy and weird all over the place. But people hugged me and defended me, and Tylenol PM helped me sleep when I otherwise couldn't. SS told me I could have a pity party until my birthday party, and that's exactly what I did. A week and a half later, I put back on my big girl pants and turned 28.
Turning 28 turned out to be pretty awesome! My bday celebrating spanned from a birthday surprise at work (with pizza from ELM!) to an impromptu Saturday afternoon picnic with a champagne/vitamin water cocktail with the girls. Saturday night I put on a pink slip dress (held up by the sticky part of Command hooks--it was all I could find!), and the friends I've collected in the past 3 years all came out to buy me drinks and tacos at a beer garden backyard in Williamsburg. On Sunday, the actual date of my birthday, I spent a good part of the day "recovering" we can call it... but I perked up in time for one lovely dinner on the roof of a sweet spot in BK. I mention all of this all not to brag but instead to express gratitude for how lucky I am! If my bday weekend is any indication of how this 28th year will be, I'm in good shape. Thank you all.
Last weekend was spent almost entirely in my empty apartment, in my underwear, drinking wine, watching Beyoncé videos and Ryan Gosling movies. I know, I know, it sounds like such a cliché single-girl weekend, but it kind of was. And it was kind of awesome. On Saturday afternoon, I put on actual clothes and went with SS, CH, and CS to Afro Punk Fest. It's almost impossible for me to fully describe the event (the fashion, music, art, etc), but let's just say.. I felt very very vanilla. People kept asking me to get out of the way so they could take pictures of people who looked like this. It was still awesome, despite my crackerness. We hula hooped. I went to a double bday party in Manhattan at night and took cabs to and from because apparently, I am a baller. On Sunday I made rice crispy bars.
The final weekend of August, Labor Day weekend, got kicked off in such a bizzare, lovely, tender and hilarious way. My dear friend HR just lost her beloved this week, after a heartbreaking battle with colon cancer. We decided to meet up on Friday night for Chinatown dumplings and massages. The environment for the dumplings was hilarious.. communal tables and shouting servers and amidst the chaos and the noise and the smells, HR and I sat close to each other and talked about the shadows of grief and heartache. We laughed at the absurdity of it all, but still a few tears fell. Next we went to our massage appt at a questionable hidden away spot off Canal St and realized that HR had accidentally signed us up for couples massages. Again we giggled uncontrollably but also shrugged our shoulders and got down to our skivvies for 1 hour of the kind of massage where the person climbed on top of the table. The whole experience/night was like that massage, deep and a little painful, but also a little hilarious and deeply necessary. That night I slept like a dumpling filled baby. Saturday I met MW and the W gang (and LN and her babe) and the BK Bridge for pizza, and again we reunited for dinner on the rooftop of Eatily. Though we had a snarky server and a bus boy who bused before we were finished, we laughed and drank and I gave a Tinder tutorial to the table. Afterward MW and I went to a bar called the Trailer Park for a nightcap, and we talked more about boys and Denver and a bunch of super feminist things. We may have snuck a selfie or two. Sunday, the Lord's day, I did laundry and babysat.
That was August.
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