escape to ny

I've arrived in one piece! no time to write yet, but soon, soon,

auf wiedersehen

another one bites the apple. 7am tomorrow... the coop is getting flown. brrrrrrookyn!

forget me nots

uuuhggghhhgghh. so hungover, and with less than 48 hours to go in san francisco, and then I'm at my mom's for a day of decompression and last minute familial bonding. vacillating between being too nervous to form coherent sentences to being pretty apathetic about the impending massive change. I've spent so much time needlessly worrying over trivial things... I feel like I'm finally all worried out. either that, or I'm in some sort of homeostatic shock.

my final goodbye party was last night at the velvet cantina and had a heartening turnout. I certainly had a "you love me you really love me" moment or two, my favorite of which was randomly procuring a bloody nose that refused to coagulate which led to cassandra holding a paper towel in my nostril as I held my butt off of the toilet seat with both hands while I peed out a river of exorbitant amounts of tequila. that's some love right there. thanks homegirl.

it was weird that a few familiar faces were missing... scotty was sick, max was assaulted on muni (suuuure), and zoe is in mexico. jon was not invited, and I don't care to see him before I go. I spent a day pretty wrecked over our anti-climactic end, but I'm making peace with it. I'm sticking my metaphorical fork in it.

this is a seriously disjointed post, but my hangover is still clouding my head. I've got to peel myself off the couch and pack. I am so checked out already. I'm ready for what comes next. new york city. I'm really doing this...

big love

in a not-at-all-surprising turn of events just before my departure, I managed to get myself involved in a demented love triangle with my ex-boyfriend and the girl he screwed around on me with when we lived together. am on the fence regarding if I hate myself more than I hate him, right now. we are not equally at fault, seeing as he is a self-indulgent, two timing liar with no conscience, but I have been duped by him more than a few times. my gluttony for the are-we-or-aren't-we tango is as despicable as his forced fits of depression that he uses as leverage to weasel his way back into good graces after acting like a giant baby.

woke up this morning with a mascara marred face not even a mother could love and entertained a brief lament on the f-bomb riddled text messages I shot off to him in a fit of blinding rage last night, and then was jarred back into reality by the sweet sounds of bathtub sex that my hot roommate was having with his new girlfriend in the next room. seriously? seriously?! fuck roommates, fuck san francisco, fuck it all. fuck it.

my blood is boiling for how stupid I've been, but my reasons for repeated entanglement are all based upon the urgent need to love and be loved. stupid on so many levels, especially because I forget to love myself, getting lost in the valiant yet entirely futile attempts at rescuing other people. he needs to save himself as much as I do, and you can't slap a bandaid on a bullet hole. bouncing from one co-dependent disaster disguised as a relationship to another is no way to grow.

I am so fucking frustrated and I don't have anywhere to put it. why is it so god damn impossible for me to let it die? is this symbolic for my break up with san francisco? is this just another example of my flawed personality that I keep battering my head against jon's brick wall like pavlov's relationship retard?

it's not love, it's a sick addiction. it's inertia, it's gangrene of the heart. it's a tug of war with no referee. I don't see how I could be any more finished... I'm leaving everything behind me. I've got to remember this time. I have to learn. I have to remember this fucked up hellhole of a road to misery and know never to take it again. if I am old enough to move across the country and start a new life, I am old enough to halt the cycle of getting into situations where my heart can be used as a hackey sack by an immature boy who gets off on having two girlfriends at once. this isn't fucking utah.

don't need legs to stand

it was strange having a family get-together in my honor tonight back on ye olde farm... probably the first time such an occurrence has come to be since I was about 8 years old. it was a lot like a graduation party, only instead of school I was celebrating graduation from the state of san francisco. I felt loved, and that is really quite a comforting feeling to have surrounding this momentous move... seeing everyone show up was a valuable reminder that though I am leaving, I will have a home to return to. I've felt so displaced for such a long time.

these last california days are a blur... I have less than a week left. I've no idea where my blind faith for moving across the country came from, but I'm glad for it. I am looking forward to the peace I'll gain from living alone in a strange city. it's high time I cranked out that book, by now.

8 days

I haven't posted anything up because I've hardly been writing, but rather fervently existing in this warmly warped vacuum of chaos and acceptance, although understanding has not yet taken place. I certainly don't know what I'm getting myself into, but I intend to find out. I've got a week left to tie up loose ends and to cauterize some emotional wounds that I will save to reopen for a rainy day when I can afford therapy.

I'm far too calm for what's about to go down...

in revue

everything's bigger in tahoe

16th street bart on thursdays

me 'n maxie pad



civic center sunset

soon you'll be leaving your man

there's this intrinsic and contradictory personality tic I've always possessed, that change makes me dreadfully uncomfortable, but stagnancy drives me (in a quite literal sense) insane. the fabled holy bovine of transformation has time and again proven that she doesn't give up the milk for free, and this time I already feel that I'll be paying in spades to receive what I know is priceless: opportunity. and of course, great pizza.

a strange calm has fallen over me with 13 days until I fly, despite that this is the most impulsive, debatably insane thing I've ever done. there's a lot to miss, but I'm through looking back. I adore san francisco for making me who I am, but I won't be leaving an empty nest here. it is feathered with my loves and my legacy, for better and often times worse, and someday I'll be back. I have no expectations but to experience all of the firsts that make the lasts I've been savoring worthwhile. sometimes it takes falling hard into an old lover's arms to feel ready to hold my own hand.

one way

Tuesday, 2/24/2009
Depart: San Francisco, CA (SFO) 9:20 AM

Flight 22

Arrive: New York, NY (JFK) 5:55 PM

CHRISTINA: Seat 15A / Main Cabin

lasts

as an individual who gets misty over visiting the corner store where I first ate a frozen piroshki, my nostalgia attacks have been frequent, uncontrollable, and many. now that I'm on the verge of blowing town, I have all of these "lasts" to ponder... how many more sardine can packed 22 line rides do I have left, how long before I camp out at dolores park movie night with my lady friends, how many more rooftop reveries before I take off for nyc? there's so much to be done before I fly away, and it's only 3 weeks off. I'm a little too scattered right now to really articulate sensical and cohesive thoughts...

"I'm sure back home they think I've lost my mind."
-ben folds