As I sit here in Doritos stained sweatpants in front of Gossip Girl reruns on Netflix, I can’t help but think about the neglect I’ve inflicted upon this humble blog. I figured a more substantial use of my time of watching more episodes of rich white people making asses of themselves, it seemed it was high time to plunk out a few words. In all honesty, I’m the worst at texting or updating my Facebook status or brushing my teeth. Cheers to making all of those tasks resolute in the new year. And yes, I realize that it’s March.
So……2018 in a nutshell…? For a year as dramatic as twenty-gay-teen, you’d need a word count reminiscent of Charles Dickens. To prove my point, please read the following as ole Charlie boy describes Marley being dead.
Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.
Mind! I don’t mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country’s done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail.
As much as I love The Muppets Christmas Carol, I can’t swallow Dickens (wink wonk).
Since you’re already well aware that the world hath shat itself into an apocalyptic timeline with Trump and the return of low-rise jeans, allow me to sparknote the ever living hell out of my 2018 for you, my devoted readers… all 12 of you.
-I got a new job where the stocks are high and the self esteem is low. I’m no longer a slave to the catering foremen of NYC, so rejoice knowing I smell a lot less like cheap wine.
-I met a boy. He’s got eyes like cinnamon and a smile that could move oceans. It moves me to get dressed in the morning. If you’re looking for scintillating details, you’re going to have to wait for me to be a little braver.
-I moved out of Crown Heights and away from the world’s best chicken wings to scenic Bushwick. Traded Imperial Chinese for Empire Taco, which specializes in burritos and general tso’s simultaneously. An upgrade all around, if you ask me. Although, I hear Imperial Chinese has since fixed their front door, so no longer does one have to freeze their egg roll off while waiting for food.
-After living with two straight boys that really liked yelling at me, I moved again. I have 500 square feet of beautiful Brooklyn real estate but I can only occupy about 6 cubic centimeters thanks to a hoarding situation. I have a haunting image of a frozen catfish penetrating my dreams because of it.
-Made some of the greatest friends of my life while losing some along the way. May the bridges I burn illuminate the catwalk in front of me. Sashay all day.
-Wrapped a feature film, did some commercial work, shot an editorial. Big things! Will write more in regards to later.
-Bought my first piece of designer clothing (here’s looking at you Calvin Klein 205W39NYC) and also quit my sample sale addiction in the meantime. Thank god.
-I saw more sets of boobs than I wanted to (take that, straight white males). I wasn’t aware that nipples could turn brown from too much tanning.
-My best friend got engaged.
In short, 2018 was way too long, which I discerned only from the list of movies that came out this last year.
I’m sure that we’ll be seeing and hearing from one another much more as the year rolls on.
PS: This also took me at least a month to write. Cheers to more?