Wow. It’s been exactly eleven months since my last post. That last post came just about a week after I met my (now) fiance, David. It was also scribed just a week after I switched offices. I had just moved into a new apartment way up in the nosebleed section of Manhattan. I was living with two good friends, from whom I have now either moved apart or away from. I was twenty-six, thinking I couldn’t get older. And now here I am, almost twenty-eight. Seems unthinkable. In five days, on November 1st, I will move again; a huge, rent-stabilized one bedroom in my ideal neighborhood: Midtown West, just one block from Columbus Circle, and two to the park. Hearst Tower is on my block. I love that building. Filled with such possibility. I love watching the impossibly stylish women teeter in their Manolos as they rush into work in that building, as I am coming back from my morning runs. I used to go to castings there. Mainly for Cosmopolitan magazine. I no longer model. Don’t miss that world. Questioning every bite, doubting every decision. Growing out hair, only to chop again. No, I am much happier now, I think. “What do you do?” People ask. “Everything.” I do everything now. It’s interesting, but unstable. Not that I’ve EVER known stability- not in the workplace.
It’s OK, though. The few stabs I’ve had at stable jobs, I’ve absolutely hated. Hustler by nature. Can’t work for anyone else, either. I can work WITH people, but not for them.
And life is unstoppably interesting. Every year different. Last year was the year of the marathon, of my first trip abroad, of deciding to go to grad school. This year has been the year of finding truth and love with another human, of stopping to look around, of making A LOT of mistakes, and of deciding NOT to go to grad school. Filled with tons of uncertainty, wonder, and at times, fear. In some ways, this has thus far been my best, and in some- definitely the worst. This years lessons were hard ones. There were many failures, and a few successes, but it was, most certainly, interesting.
