Let’s be real, it was a rough week for both of us. And somehow, Deneice managed to pick the most perfect weekend for a surpriseee visit — which is exactly what we needed.
Totally awesome day that included: brunch at Roberta’s, Luhring Augustine gallery, the High Line, Cafe Minerva, dinner at Caracas, crazy dance water light extravaganza at Fuerza Bruta with N, D, Ben, and Esteban, then drinks at the Post Office and now, HOME.
You made our month, D —
Lu
m (and n, who’s sleeping)
The Future: Your sentimentality softens all the edges, you’re misremembering. Take a moment to recall it as it really was: fucking hell.
good luck,
Miranda
m
Things usually make sense in time, and even bad decisions have their own kind of correctness.
I made orange juice from concentrate and showed her the trick of squeezing the juice of one real orange into it. It removes the taste of being frozen. She marveled at this, and I laughed and said, Life is easy. What I meant was, Life is easy with you here, and when you leave, it will be hard again.
m
If you have to ask someone to change, to tell you they love you, to bring wine to dinner, to call you when they land, you can’t afford to be with them. It’s not worth the price, even though, just like the Tiffany catalog, no one tells you what the price is. You set it yourself, and if you’re lucky it’s reasonable. You have a sense of when you’re about to go bankrupt. Your own sense of self-worth takes the wheel and says, Enough of this shit. Stop making excuses. No one’s that busy at work. No one’s allergic to whipped cream. There are too cell phones in Sweden. But most people don’t get lucky. They get human. They get crushes. This means you irrationally mortgage what little logic you own to pay for this one thing. This relationship is an impulse buy, and you’ll figure out if it’s worth it later.
s.c.
m
We met on the platform for a Manhattan bound train. He told me about his dreams and aspirations of being a fashion designer and his hopes of getting into a prestigious school. We chatted about the city and its wealth of creatives. Then we talked about Paris. Paris. His name was Pierre.
n
There is one thing you know for sure, one fact that never fails to comfort you: the worst day of your life wasn’t in there, in that mess. And it will do you good to remember the best day of your life wasn’t in there, either. But another person brought you closer to those borders than you had been, and maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
Sloane Crosley
m
ohMAAN 