I leave in 11 hours. I’m like a kid at Christmas. I’m overwhelmed excited and can’t sleep. I fit all my stuff I’m bringing into a tiny backpack the size a kindergartner might carry to school. Fuck them if they want $45 bucks for carry ons. So I can basically bring a purse if I don’t want to pay that. TO NEW YORK. A GIRL. TO NEW YORK. I’m going to wear most of my clothes on the plane. I got this. If I choose to save money, which I do, this is my plan. (I’m going to spend $20 at the bar before I even leave Denver who am I kidding?) (Is it bad if I want to start carrying a flask ‘to save money’?)
So here will be my writings for every day. Like this. My brain splattered out onto the screen at random moments. I’m not a ‘schedule’ type o girl. (And that is pronounced shed-shule to put it into layman’s terms.) Here is the poem I thought of when I saw the headline that ‘Scarlett Johansson knocks Mila Kunis off the throne’ or whatever, as she (Scarlett) is Esquire Magazine’s Sexiest Woman Alive. (So much wrong with that entire statement I’m not even going to start.)
Can I be enough?
Are my knees right?
Did I throw up the right amount of lunch?
Can my dress be the only one?
If I lay on my side I look fat. No one can see me.
Can I see me?
Did I do everything right?
Can you see my boobs enough?
What do you want?
I have it. I am empty. I am full. I am never full.
So rehearsal was a complete BE-OTCH of a bitch. I wanted to ram my head into the wall, cry, leave, punch everyone, all of the above. There is a hump I cannot get over in this. I secretly don’t want to come back from New York. I’m scraping, and I’m staying positive and shit, but scraping by here in Denver is kinda sucky, but kinda not cuz its one of the best cities ever, that is so beautiful, but some guy got beat up violently a few blocks away and someone had a gun to someone’s head on the porch a few blocks away from that and I have so little money but a smile on my face and I keep swimming but I’m in one of those super small pools that just has an awesome current so you can do a full crawl stroke, hard like you’re swimming for your life in that little thing but you are only in a 5×5 pool, and when I stop and think, I’m tired.
I thought I would just keep up this daily thing. I want to definitely blog about my four days (3 1/2) in New York and seeing how little I can spend. I like a challenge but hate discipline.
See you in the funny papers!!