I got an e-mail message this morning about the NaNoBloMo theme for the month of July (it's routine, if you're interested; and man, I could tell you a thing or two about the beauty in a routine life), and it suddenly occurred to me: Hey, I have one of those newfangled blogs! A couple of them, even! Which I haven't been posting in lately! I should do something about that!
So. Hi, hi! Depsite all appearances to the contrary I have missed you. I'm just feeling that summery lassitude sweeping over me, and not that mint-julep-sipping, prettily-faint-in-an-appealing-Vivien-Leigh-like way, either; more in that sere, crabby, fml kind of way. The way it does every summer. And it's not that I don't have lots to say, because, well, I have lots to say. I just can't seem to sit down and say it. Instead, I'm avoiding people in general and catching up on my reading (no, let's be honest, not catching up. More rereading, because I want comfort books, not strange new ones, no matter how wonderful) and playing video games and going for solitary walks with the dog at times (early in the morning and late at night: a necessity due to the excessive hairiness of the dog and the excessive mugginess of the deep south) when other people I encounter are as uncommunicative and wary as I am, which suits me but at the same time isolates and lonelifies me.
I took a break from my sullen summer, though, and spent a few days in a more upbeat mood in New York City which was in every way but one obviously and gloriously New York. In that one last way, the climatical one, it was more what I remember London to be like, misty and dreary. But amazing. And hectic, and noisy, and utterly satisfying. I walked my feet into hamburger and bought cheap clothes and expensive lotions and met some most beloved people (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
octoberstory! And bowdlerized and idlerat! And amelia_eve and leitmotif! And bethbethbeth! And somniesperus! :D:D:D) and saw three museums and bought a can of intuition and ate on the streets and only went the wrong way on the subway the one time! Saw plays! Shunned the Empire State Building! Failed to take photos about 85% of the time I was there! Visited Duane Reade 17 times a day! Fell just the once, but what I lacked in quality I made up in quality! And much, much more!
Really, I imagine that it's not impossible to be lost and lonely and moody in New York City. In fact, I imagine that when you're seriously in the mood for that sort of thing, there's really no place better. But I'm glad I wasn't, because there's so much to see and do. I missed a lot -- you always do, even when you live there -- but what I did see, I adored. I wish I were there right now, instead of facing down the end of my weekend.
More to come, sporadically and possibly grouchily. I do promise you that, for what it's worth.
So. Hi, hi! Depsite all appearances to the contrary I have missed you. I'm just feeling that summery lassitude sweeping over me, and not that mint-julep-sipping, prettily-faint-in-an-appealing-Vivien-Leigh-like way, either; more in that sere, crabby, fml kind of way. The way it does every summer. And it's not that I don't have lots to say, because, well, I have lots to say. I just can't seem to sit down and say it. Instead, I'm avoiding people in general and catching up on my reading (no, let's be honest, not catching up. More rereading, because I want comfort books, not strange new ones, no matter how wonderful) and playing video games and going for solitary walks with the dog at times (early in the morning and late at night: a necessity due to the excessive hairiness of the dog and the excessive mugginess of the deep south) when other people I encounter are as uncommunicative and wary as I am, which suits me but at the same time isolates and lonelifies me.
I took a break from my sullen summer, though, and spent a few days in a more upbeat mood in New York City which was in every way but one obviously and gloriously New York. In that one last way, the climatical one, it was more what I remember London to be like, misty and dreary. But amazing. And hectic, and noisy, and utterly satisfying. I walked my feet into hamburger and bought cheap clothes and expensive lotions and met some most beloved people (
octoberstory! And bowdlerized and idlerat! And amelia_eve and leitmotif! And bethbethbeth! And somniesperus! :D:D:D) and saw three museums and bought a can of intuition and ate on the streets and only went the wrong way on the subway the one time! Saw plays! Shunned the Empire State Building! Failed to take photos about 85% of the time I was there! Visited Duane Reade 17 times a day! Fell just the once, but what I lacked in quality I made up in quality! And much, much more! Really, I imagine that it's not impossible to be lost and lonely and moody in New York City. In fact, I imagine that when you're seriously in the mood for that sort of thing, there's really no place better. But I'm glad I wasn't, because there's so much to see and do. I missed a lot -- you always do, even when you live there -- but what I did see, I adored. I wish I were there right now, instead of facing down the end of my weekend.
More to come, sporadically and possibly grouchily. I do promise you that, for what it's worth.
