Dream Killers (Not Catchers)

Today I am dressed like a gay man fashionista and sitting at a Brooklyn cafe, I feel really at home. I thought in New York I would be consumed with the desire to be a culture snob, but instead I feel repulsed, and have decided to chill the fuck out in the realm of pop culture. Also, because the gallery I intern in shares a building with the offices of places like Calvin Klein and Jimmy Choo, every time I get in the elevator I must face the eating-order induced size zero rich bitches with their very expensive clothing. Instead of sucking in I try and be as in-the-way as possible, sticking my butt out and pushing them into the corners. This is kind of a lie, regardless this proves that I may not be a music snob but I am most certainly a cynic. At least I am confirming how strongly I identify with my frumpy-casual West Coast roots, and realize anorexia is not the route for me (I KNOW a lot of these girls don’t actually have eating disorders but occasionally those of us who aren’t in that sizing range just need to make some harsh assumptions to make ourselves feel better). Speaking of West Coast roots, my friend got Lily and I jobs for the Mushroom Man at Farmer’s Markets around the city. This is great because we have no money and cannot keep up with the lifestyles of East Coast money bags.

Our life in Brooklyn is charming, we live in a great area with two cats (who we have a love/hate relationship with). For instance, yesterday, Calipso-Crouton (we added on the Crouton name) was trying to escape while I was leaving for work. This was the one morning when Lily didn’t leave the same time as me. C-C bolted and I dropped my stuff to grab her, door closed behind me. As I stood staring at the door with a cat in my arms, I just started pushing on the door in hopes of it opening. I let myself panic for a minute and then just started knocking on doors with C-C gripping and scratching my neck. Eventually everything worked out with the help of an older woman and her very dusty apartment, the liquor store downstairs and the cafe across the street (also my mother had to be my sounding board). Internships are killing our dreams also, more so last week than this week. It is really difficult working for someone else’s vision, and when the work you are doing is spreadsheets. This is more at the gallery than my other internship. I like my other one because I work from home and can sleep in and hang out in cafes.

I joined a dating site (I forced Lily to also) and am going on a date tonight. I already went on one which was kind of a bust but I keep getting this intense pre-date dread, where I decide I hate the guy already even though I messaged him first. Lily is talking me down now, and we are getting drinks. I need to chill out.


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