tavie.com

I've been itching to have a space of my own to decorate and spread my stuff out in. It won't happen in the next six months, anyway, and probably more like year. It must be inevitable that the last few obstacles are the hardest. It's not that graduating, finding a job and saving money so I can move out will be all that terribly daunting, but put together they are such long, dragging steps. So it's good that Spring Break ended when it did, because one more episode of Sex and the City and I would've lost my will to go on. Watching that show is like reading Elfquest. The World of Two Moons and the World of Carrie Bradshaw are equally fantastical. And yet I go to school mere blocks from her nonexistent Upper East Side apartment. So that makes it harder.

The New York of the movies does not exist.

But there's a New York of Goils and affordable apartments in not-the-very-worst-possible-neighbourhoods, if you share them with two friends and get a job that pays a reasonable wage. This must exist, or everyone would live with their parents. Or my parents.

People never believe I was born here because I can't find my way around and I smile at strangers. I don't believe I was born here because I still think it's possible to live here.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:20 PM | shower me with attention