So yesterday as I prepared for a day of drunken (refer to my previous post if you think I'm a boozer) adventure-- yes, I had a Shins concert to attend, girlfriends to mingle with and a sleepover to be had. Drunk on it all, including champagne and cheap shoddy beer? Yes, that was the ticket. Especially for my ever-mounting blues. I cried the whole drive out to Royal Oak to see my friend, while masochistically listening to every achy breaky song I could find on my Ipod--of course. And God love her, when I explained my irrational tears and fears she pulled out the champagne and we cheers-ed to being strong.
A very worthy cheer. Cheers to that indeed.
Why the fuck am I bluesy might you ask? Well, the thing is, I am moving to New York City in less than a week now. Right. No reason for the blues. None. This is epic. Huge. My life dream. I have been prepping for this since I was fourteen. I mean, every fiber, neuron, innard, and string of my soul wants this... however, with big dreams comes big change and even bigger fear. I read somewhere that if your dreams don't scare you, they aren't big enough. Guess what? I am terrified out of my ever-loving wits about this move. So turns out I am a colossal dreamer. Yeah, fun fact I am sure none of you were aware of. New York is everything I want and then some. It is where I need to be and have to attempt to do this annoying thing called growing up, or becoming an adult... err--okay I do want to be an adult, sorta. Okay not at all. Adulthood blows. The only perk of being an adult is getting your own set of wheels and having sleepovers wherever you please without your parents permission, best thing ever in fact. Okay and wine. And I suppose getting a puppy if the yen so strikes you. Okay, adulthood is not so bad, especially for someone like me who is determined to live like Peter Pan in a perpetual state of childhood. Except for balancing your checking account--yep I was overdrawn yesterday. And fielding phone calls from Sallie Mae--sorry guys, still broke. No-can-do-sy. Call back in a month when I have sold my soul for an apartment in NY and maybe there will be an overage and I can pay you then. Fingers crossed!
So okay, that was quite a tangent, but it encompassed a lot of my key points. That I am terrified to put myself out there in a big, big way again. That I am doing it with virtually no dollars. Seriously, I am selling my car and going. And I haven't even gotten any money from it yet, but the ticket is still booked, so I am going to totally pull a Madonna and show up in NYC, young, fabulous and definitely penniless and call me crazy but it's what I need to do. Am I scared of failing? A lot, but I hate that word, I prefer to think of it as faltering and I am more than prepared to embrace the enormous struggle that will await me there, but, deep down, I know I've got this. I do.
So again, why the blues? Besides my dismal checking account balance, eh I gave up on seeing anything more than cents in there a long time ago, and taking a huge leap of faith on my wildest dream, it's this: I love the people I am surrounded by here, namely my more than incredible family, and stellar friends. My heart is weeping a sad, sad refrain at the thought of not being near them for... a long while. So, hmm. I hate to end on that Debbie Downer note, as leaving isn't permanent, my home will always be my home and in regards to not seeing all my beloveds, I'd like to quote one of my favorite men,
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear.
oh e.e. you slay me. and in an ode to you i will not capitalize this sentence. you said it sir, you said it.