It’s a Blonde on Blonde kind of week.
(Source: cocteldeinstantaneo)
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Oh, hello, fifteen year old self.
(Korey, relax and look at this photo I stole from your brother’s Facebook.)
F. Scott Fitzgerald
(Source: ryanhatesthis, via skitten)
I’ve made a huge mistake.
(I was fucking down at the Wharf and everything.)
(I just didn’t want to wait around for four hours by myself.)
(I can hear the fireworks from Bernal Heights.)
(Even over the screeches of the Kardashians!)
(Fuck, why couldn’t the bridge have opened on June 1st, 1937? In five days I’ll be living in a house in the Richmond with roof access.)
(I love fireworks so much. I love the bridge so much. Ugh.)
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I think the universe is telling Ethan that it’s time to move.
(But for real, Mormons love San Diego.)
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A broken 14, a delayed 49 and I’m very late for an eight hour shift. All I wanna do is ditch work and join in.
Maybe it happened when I couldn’t get off work to go to my brother’s graduation. Maybe it happened when Korey and Erik drove off this morning. Or maybe it happened when I got locked out of the apartment for a half hour this evening.
Of course, when you can’t have it, that’s when you want it.
There is a great Joan Didion essay called “In Sable and Dark Glasses” that was recently published in Vogue. I, like Joan, “was determined to bypass childhood”. But here I am, an adult-ish, and all I can think about is childhood.
I’m not longing for childhood in the way most people would think, though. I don’t mind working. I don’t mind the rent. What I do mind is the fact that I don’t have a home. Or, I don’t have a whole home.
San Francisco is home. Just walking back from the grocery store, I was looking at the Bay Bridge and I could not feel more content. However, when my key got stuck, I just lost it. As I jiggled the key for thirty minutes until the lock finally relented, I thought about how I’ve missed walking into a house and feeling complete comfort.
Most people in this town are pretty transient as far as physical shelter is concerned. It’s never been something I’ve really thought about or was bothered by*. But, the person I’m living with right now has lived in this unit for the last ten years, and you can tell. Lived in apartments just feel different. They have a certain warmth about them. I wish it was mine.
For the past two nights, Korey and Erik stayed with me and it was so nice having people here who feel like family. But when I couldn’t get in today, I felt like an outsider. I was thinking “this would never happen with Ethan and Korey, this would never happen if it was my own house.”
A lot of my friends have headed home to stay with their parents for the summer, and for the first time (the only time I’ve wanted it), I can’t have it. My brother will be graduating from high school and I’ll be selling cupcakes to rude tourists. I’ll be moving three times in the course of the summer. But I know this feeling isn’t permanent. In August, Ethan and Korey, the two most important people in my life, are moving here. The fact that they are coming at the same time makes me even more privileged.
If I can’t make a real home with them, then the problem is obviously me. Either way, I gotta grow up.
*I apologize for ending this sentence in preposition.
