i found myself homesick last night. i had gotten home from running errands, spending a few hours with ali before she caught the train home for a week and grabbing a movie (without cable and internet, i am not in a huge hurry to get home) and began unwrapping my last box. it was picture frames. frame after frame of my family, my dad. i got teary. there are just some times that i get to thinking about life and how much id like to see my dad, talk to him and ask for his guidance. my dad had a way of making me feel smart, funny and beautiful even when i didnt feel it for myself. he had a complicated daughter (arent we all?!) and he just handled me, and everything in life, with such grace and ease. i would give anything to have him visit me in brooklyn, laugh at a joke, go run with me, help me land a boyfriend, loosen up about myself, and see that maybe one day things will fall into place. but he cant do that. i get a sense of ease when i pray at night and think about him, but i cant help but fight just how amazingly sucky life is without my dad.
thats not to say the people in my life arent amazing. you all are. my dad was just.....well.....dad. irreplaceable. in times like now where im adjusting to a new city and trying to find my way, a job, and organize my apartment, a bit of dad would be great. the moments when i fully believe i am not qualified for anything, id like him to tell me he loves me. the moments when i am alone or homesick, or bummed a boy wasnt interested...id love for him to tell me that im a catch, and hes only an email, phone call, text or train ride away. when i am feeling sluggish or tired after too much alcohol, too much sugar and not enough exercise...id like for him to remind me that im a great runner, and hes proud.
i dont mean any of this selfishly. anyone that knows me knows that nothing makes me happier than telling those i love how amazing they are. its just that my dad had a special way of reminding me about all the things i forget about myself.
life in your 20s is tough. there is so much self-doubt and self-acceptance (or not) happening. theres a lot of soul-searching, highs and lows. i know life is tough in all generations for various reasons, but for now, im still learning how to be 26. im trying to find a good guy to be mine. im trying to find something i love to do for a living. im trying to find a balance between wanting to be a great athlete and party animal.
ok, ill continue this self-introspection later, but before i sign off id like to share with you my hellish move. to start, the guy moving me told me on wednesday hed be at my apt between 7:30-8am on friday. because of this my mom cancelled her train cause she wasnt going to get there until 11, and by that time the move would be over. fast forward to friday and he didnt end up getting there until 945. that, and he showed up alone. who the hell shows up to move someone alone?!?! i was pissed. i called my mom. im still hoping to get some sort of refund for this. we had to ask some workers working next door to help with moving. i politely asked the guy why he showed up alone, and he defensively responded, "maam, ive been doing this for 32 years. i know what i am doing, are you questioning my abilities?" i was like, "no, im not at all, i just know that experience doesnt help move furniture, bodies do. seeing as youve done this a time or two, id think youd know this". ha!
well, he got me back. he asked if he could be. EXTREMELY hesitantly i said ok. he then took a huge shit and asked to please leave the apt while the smell diminished. i was MORTIFIED. MORTIFIED!!! a move that should have taken not much time took 4+ hours. he took a few smoke breaks. explained that smoking wasnt the reason he was short of breath going up 2 flights of stairs or the reason he had no teeth. (i didnt ask). defensive much?? haha.
needless to say, i wasnt a fan of my mover. the neighbors that helped were dolls!! i tipped 'em $20. i mean, they did move me. i didnt have any more cash than that, so that was it...but i got 'em waters and sodas. it was funny cause they actually felt bad for me throughout this whole thing. to quote one of them, "i think hes a fucking moron. we want to see you get moved successfully. please ask us for anything you need. lets hurry this up, so jackass goes home". he spent much of the move telling me how rich he was and how he doesnt get out of bed for anywhere near $350 a day. what the fuck?!
thats only the beginning. ive got many more ramblings to share :)
xoxo
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