Look What The Cat Dragged In...

Well, well, well….look what the fucking cat dragged in: The girl who tried to Baby Boom herself into a new life, failing miserably, only to move back to NYC on February 10th, 2020, to work in the industry she left, three weeks before the Coronavirus made its debut appearance in NYC, baby! What a goddamn fucking idiot.

All those long-winded navel-gazing posts about how I was ready to change it all! Throwing away the woman who would bend over backwards at jobs and would work herself into an early grave! The woman who would embrace the wilderness and hike her way into a new life! The woman who didn’t need to fill her days and would be content to roast root vegetables and make terrariums for the local old-folks home. HAHAHHAHA. Yeah. Uh. So. About that? It’s amazing what acute isolation, a shattered wrist from the snow, an asthma attack that culminated with me in my underwear in 13 degree weather at 5am attempting to shock my lungs into breathing, and daily trips down a ice gauntlet hill will make you reconsider. And, reconsider I did, friends. I was plucked from my maple-syrup hibernation and brought back to the world I left behind! The best way to describe it: imagine if Violet Beauregard from Willy Wonka, after whatever terrors happened “while juicing” , decided to go BACK to Wonka’s factory and fucking chomp on that three-course meal gum AGAIN, knowing full fucking well what would happen to her. That’s me!!! I did that! Only I did that and there was a virus that decided to descend upon the world at the exact same time.

When people said, “ you know, it really takes a special person to move all the way to Vermont when you don’t know anyone” - well then it really takes an EXTRA SPECIAL person to move back to New York during the start of a pandemic. I’m not sure what that says about my mental health or my fearlessness when it comes to putting myself in the path of danger, but I’m sure my therapist will have some insights. What I will say is, if one does decided to move from a Hallmark channel fever dream, make sure you fully commit to the move. Do not, and I mean this seriously, do not say “I’ll start the job and come back in 3-4 weeks to get my furniture moved down”. Because, what will happen is that the virus that was once worlds away, will be strutting through the streets of NYC like a Rhinestone fucking Cowboy, and you, you dumb, dumb, dummy, will be in a new apartment without ANY MOTHERFUCKING FURNITURE WHEN THE CITY GOES INTO GODDAMN LOCKDOWN. Friends, I was eventually able to get a mattress, tv and one ONE!! chair. And that is how I spent March - May of 2020 in a little Brooklyn apartment. Sitting on the ground, doing zoom calls and pouring bourbon into my coffee at 10am. The past two years have been a ride. If I thought Vermont was a strain, well, this was something completely different. There will be time enough to tell you about how I got arrested, or ending up working from a Hosptial gurney with the “flu” at the beginning of the pandemic, or how we shot a tv show for an entire year next to a dump. But those are for another day.

Anywho, here I am. Living back in New York and the walking embodiment of what happens when you try and “eat pray love” your life, but instead its just a lot of crying in snowdrifts and making soup. Hey, At least I gave it a fucking shot, ya know?