Saturday, June 11, 2011

NYC, Here I Come. For better or for worse.

It has been over a decade since I've been to New York City. I remember the first time I went, people told me I would feel small or overwhelmed. When I actually arrived, thanks to the fact that several of my friends happened to be there at the same time and because my cousin was taking me along with her to meet with designers as she was choosing lines for her spring collection at wherever she was working at the time, I felt completely at home. I loved the city and just like many people, when 9/11 happened, I had my own small story to relate to the Twin Towers.

This spring, my cousin told me she was moving to NYC and that I should come out because I had a place to stay. I started working every angle to get there. Now it looks like it is really gonna happen. Still I won't believe it until I'm on a plane. At the same time, I'm having a heart attack because so many other things have happened...I caught a virus on my computer, got a phone call this morning that cuts my income by 1/3, I've been dodging student loans for 6 months. Still, I feel I have to go, even if I become the cliche of showing up with $20 in my pocket (if I'm lucky to have more than 40 cents).

A lot of amazing people stepped up when I went to SXSW, and it's pretty ironic that not one of the venues or promoters that I post daily with my listings can seem to feel any value to actually pay for those listings, and certainly not extra advertising. Some days I feel like quitting this blog altogether. Actually, lately, I think about it most days, which is exactly why I need to get outta Dodge. Blogger has one simple delete button that would make countless hours, nearly 5,000 posts, and any effort I've ever made completely disappear. It's like jumping off the Coronado Bridge but sticking around for the aftermath. Being a blogger is like being an acoustic singer-songwriter with no talent and no following. I do it because I love it and I have a passion for this, but there is no reward for sleeping 2-4 hours a day other than the music. But maybe, perhaps, someone is reading this now and wants to keep my shallow dream alive. And for that, there's that tiny "DONATE" button in the right column of this page.

I'm gonna get to New York one way or another. And I have people to meet, places to see. But when I come back, it just might be a whole new reality because I might have to fuck all and go back to a shitty suicidal job that leaves me hollow but actually pays my bills. Fuck. The thought of that is so dreadful. And I might have to surrender. God, I hope I don't have to surrender.

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