Lovage

Here's another one for you all. This is some seriously silky shit right here. How you could listen to this song without nodding your head or falling into a trance-like state, I don't know. Also, a particularly righteous jam to play while showering. Next up: cookies. Stay tuned!

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

SoooOoOooOooOoo I DYED MY HAIR BROWN!

Alone/Single/Both

As transcribed from a note I wrote in my Blackberry while sitting in a cafe recently:

One of the things I struggle with, day in and day out, is learning to be alone in this monster of a city. Or, more specifically, learning to be alone and to not feel lonely. Sitting in a cafe by myself, stifling the compulsion to stick out feelers (texts, calls) to everyone I know, just to remind myself I have friends. Taking walks through parks without stealing jealous glances at couples in their honeymoon phase. Going shopping solo. Flying solo, essentially. 

Winter in Manhattan rewards those in a relationship, allowing them to seek refuge in the safety of cozy apartments and warm beds. And then it basically shits on just about everyone else. We're all left to fend for ourselves. I'm almost positive that's why there are more people holed up in Starbuckses during the winter; it's much easier being alone and single as a collective than being alone and single on your own. Which leads me to wonder: is this a feeling I'll be forced to endure so long as I continue living as a single gal in this city? Does it ever go away, and if so, when? I read all these articles in New York Magazine and the Times, detailing the parallels between singledom and loneliness in Manhattan, and they never cease to amaze me. And they never really offer any answers either, just conjectures. Some days I wish one of these cappuccino-sipping, single mofos would just come up to me and teach me his/her ways. The way of the samurai single. Because I'd really like to know how it feels to be utterly alone and perfectly content. Apparently it's a well-kept secret in this damn town.