That's kinda nice.

Steven told me he believes in me.  I've never heard that before.  It feels really good.





I'm still trying, I'm still getting out there, I'm still hoping.

I'm thinking at least a million by now

Waiting, waiting, waiting.  If I got paid by the hour to wait like I do to work, I'd be a millionaire by now.

My whole life I've waited for something better.  I never wanted to settle.  Wait for the better guy, the one you want.  Wait for that better job, you'll make more money.  Wait for the better computer, this one will be outdated in a month. Just wait.

This is all great in theory, but in practice I'm impulsive and physically cannot wait.  I dated guys who had no interest in anything but sex, and I'm hurt because I expected differently?  I took jobs as they came and had to leave the city I love because I no longer had money.  This computer was replaced with those shiny aluminum iMacs three weeks after I bought it.

And even now, I'm waiting.  I'm hoping for news on a job, and quietly socking away money and positivity until I hear.  I'm waiting on the boy every night--will he text me?  When will he have a weekend to get together?--and I go to bed sad and disappointed when he doesn't get in touch.  I wait for old friends to remember I exist, and new friends to discover me.

This is all very passive, and for someone who wants so much out of life, so much more than marriage and babies, it's a pretty shitty way of showing my strength.

Today's hope is for a new home.

where we are

i envy those
who live in two places:
new york, say, and london;
wales and spain;
l.a. and paris;
hawaii and switzerland.

there is always the anticipation
of the change, the chance that what is wrong
is the result of where you are. i have
always loved both the freshness of
arriving and the relief of leaving. with
two homes every move would be a homecoming.
i am not even considering the weather, hot
or cold, dry or wet: i am talking about hope.

all photos were taken by me over the last six years.