saturday morning movie date

i believe in crying the way most people believe in exercise.

that it should be engaged in often and that it's essential for the health of the body.

i'm in need of a cry. a good cry, a solid cry. i'm not terribly sure why, all i know is  i can feel my body calling out for it.

usually when this happens there's a backlog of tears and i never find the release until that fated moment when i hit the top of my head on the underside of the bathroom's standing sink.  it doesn't hurt much--it never does--but it results in pretty substantial heaves and me crumpled despairingly against the cool tiles of the bathroom floor. (i've lived a life on that bathroom floor).

to prevent this i'm taking myself to the movies this morning. a date! for (with) myself!  i've indulged in a medium soy chai latte (fear of soy and sugar be damned today!). a six dollar movie ticket, a cool, dark theatre, and a space in which to silently water my soul? huzzah! (does that sound dramatic and cliche? that watering of the soul? oh but it is! this is all serious and important work i'm going about.)

alright, must be off, i'll let you know how it goes.

image credit: unknown
(if anyone does know who
this is by please comment below).

deep laughs and old friends.


this is my friend rob.

we met on our very first day at juilliard. the very same day we had to wear body-skimming clothes for our alexander technique photos (acting school is strange) and when the time for his photo came rob stripped to nothing but tighty whities. 

we've been friends ever since.
(get your head out of the gutter, it wasn't like that).

rob and i haven't seen each other for a while. so last night we made a date for dinner followed by swing-dancing classes at lincoln center (there is so much to do and take advantage of during a new york city summer!).

and when, at that moment during dinner, i pulled out my camera for the cursory pictures he made some peter parker comment (classic) and then proceeded to fire off fifty at a time (usually i have to beg people to take three in a row). he had me laughing so hard that my sometimes-snort crept back in. it's not terribly attractive that snort, nor are the veins now protruding from my forehead. but at least i know i'm laughing, deeply. i'd take real laughs, deep snorts, and pulsing veins any day of the week if it means a life lived fully.

laugh 1

laugh 2

laugh 3

this is for anyone who thinks my apartment is always pristine.

holy moly, a mess

turns out after a week and a half of not feeling well this is what i get.

nyc living is hard enough that i do try to keep my room extremely organized, but that's because if you could open up my mind you'd find it looks suspiciously similar to this. external order helps to balance the mish-mosh that is my mind. 

i just wanted to share because i find this image a bit hilarious. and because my momma's now in town--i gotta get my but out of bed and clean up. 

happy sunday friends. 

dear anonymous,

you raise a very good point.

why would i, who enjoys being single, wear a ring on my left hand-ring finger?

to which i say: i understand your confusion. it does look like my left-hand doesn't it? such is the trick of the mirror. ah, the mirror, you say! you missed that critical point. yup, it's my right hand. don't worry, many before you have been bested by the mirror's flip.

ring 2

don't worry about it. it happens.

with mutual admiration,