starting again

It's been awhile- it's March. Which means I've lived in New York for 6 months now. Thats half a year- thats a chunk of time.

So what do I have to show for it?

I'm going back home in a bit- two weeks. I'm going to see everyone again. It's a little nervewracking. I wish I had a little more to show for it than merely confusion.

So, I'm going to start writing every day again. I dont even care what I write or how well it sounds, I just need that part of my brain to keep working. I tried to write a client bio the other day and it was hard- it hasnt been hard for me to write something in a long time. but thats because i also havent written anything in a long time.

I'm going home again. There's no worse feeling in the real world than going home. Because home means so many things. Going home means being bombarded by memories- a choppy montage of your most awkward memories swimming around you. Home means wincing, at the little things you did, at the big things you didn't do. home means actually facing your legacy.

maybe thats why we like new york. it's familiar and unfamiliar all at the same time, so it's easy to push aside the wincable memories and let the float into the dust. everyone we know is more concerned with everyone else they know, and especially with those that don't know them.

i spend hours wishing i could be meredith melling burke. or plum sykes. or candy pratts price. or bee shaffer. or any young, beautiful girl floating around in magazine publishing, taking the time to pose for pics with prozena and schouler and then rushing home to write about mascara and cream blush and liquid eyeliner.

its a weird industry- the large consumer magazine industry. it's hard to break into. it's operated much like a country club- with membership by referral only. its headed by rich white men with rich white daughters who attend balls and benefits and then browse through their pictures on style.com. they smoke cigars and talk empires, while middle aged midwestern women eagerly read through their copies of GLAMOUR in hopes of reducing the appearance of cellulite. and its all to make us buy what we dont need. it's a complicated process for a quite simple goal.

if you're reading VOGUE, what you're buying that you don't need is probably Chanel or Prada. If it's GLAMOUR, it's high definition mascara and cocount body scrub. Love JANE and it's fuck me red lipstick and marc by marc jacobs. we are defined by what we read.