BUT! I move in just a few days, and will have a whole day to get unpacked and settled in! SO SUPER STOKED ON THAT! Also, my early morning walk is going to be on hold for a week, so I can kind of ease into my new routine! WHOOP!
I am also super excited because yesterday I bought my first art that is going to decorate the walls of my new room.
So cute, right? They have these frames that are like a dusky blue, and really stick out from the actual picture a lot, so the pieces look more like trays, BUT they have that thing on the back that says, "Hey, hang me as a picture. I. will. pimp. your. walls." Umm, hokay!
AND, as ever, getting them was a bit of an ordeal like only I can have something be...
So, about a week ago, I found them at Urban Outfitters, and the price was 39.99. Each. Wowza.
I don't think I've ever paid that much for ANYTHING to be on my walls. And, since I'm (trying to be) in the money saving place instead of the money spending one, I thought to myself, "well, if I'm really supposed to have them, in two weeks they'll still be here when I come back."
And so it was that I left the Urban Outfitters on Broadway that sunny afternoon, with the promise to come back for my arts when I was all settled in my new place.
All the way home, I was thinking about them. I was thinking about them so much that I thought I was having some sort of retail remorse, when you just wish you had bought SOMETHING, but I knew that couldn't be it, since I HAD bought some things there, three presents and a new messenger bag for work. Also, when I left the store I went down to Fashion Ave and bought new shoes, something that always at least pushes any doldrums to the corners of my mind for a few days...
(don't worry, here they are. Thank you Terrence at Foot Action)
What? They're Nikes, so that means they're good for walking, right?
HAHA, I'm J/K, guys. Here they are. Or it is. I could only find a picture of one...
YES. I'm a lil pissed, this looks WAY orange, and while I wouldn't mind at all having tangerine dream feets, that is not the case, and I abhor misrepresenting myself. Or my feet. I know, I know. Chill, it's only shoes, right? NO. Do you even hear yourself? Ugh. Anyway. My shoes are black and PINK. With no high heels. And they are AWESOME. They are super lightweight, and kind of return the energy back to me while I'm walking.
This was especially amazing yesterday, because I thought I was going to die at the end of the day from basically being in a working state from 8p the night before to 7p last night. Yeah, I know. I worked with Darren from 8p-7a, walked Lola from 730a-830a, headed home for a bit of a break, then puppysat a wee leetle named Rose for 4 hours. After that, I went back to Lola's and walked her again for another hour. PLUS I did my Urban painting hunt.
I can guarantee I wanted to chop off my feet about 40% less than normal because of those shoes. I know that doesn't sound like much, but we're talking about me voluntarily giving my own feet. 40%? SO GOOD.
When I lived here in 2007 and was walking non-stop for The Brothers, by the end of the day I would be in so much pain I would question every decision I was making. I would have serious battles with myself about taking the bus or train home, when I ALWAYS had to take both. I would be halfway to the bus stop (a block away) and realize that I had forgotten my bus pass at the shop. I would stop walking in mid-stride, not even bringing my feet together, and say "fffuuuuuuuuucccckkkkkk". I mean, "say" is a little strong. My energy would be so low, I would just sort of emit the word. Total hopelessness would consume me and I would feel the tears coming, you know the ones, they actually start right behind your shoulders which you drop and sort of fold into your chest, and work your way into your throat, which gets all thick. You know if you try to clear your throat, you'll choke on a sob, and everyone will hear, so you elongate your neck in an attempt to swallow them, or at least stave them off, because no one wants to be the girl on the sidewalk crying to herself while looking like she's poised to take off running, like it's something that is about to happen against her will. Hell, I wouldn't want to see that, much less be it. How do you even assist someone like that?
Well, maybe a hug would've been nice, but WE'LL NEVER KNOW, BECAUSE NO ONE EVER DID.
*sigh* Thanks a lot, NY.
At this point, still at the halfway mark between the store I worked out of and the bus stop, I would have turned my body 45 degrees toward the store, and would now be just standing there, sticking my neck out, and straddling the sidewalk.
Jesus. No wonder I never got mugged. People were probs afraid of ME. Nice.
Anyway, I would sort of listlessly raise my hand in the direction of the doors to the shop, like I could make my metropass slip itself under the double doors and flutter down the street into my hand.
Now I looked like one of those living statues. Fucking fantastic.
My eyes would be full of tears that had made their way there from my throat, and I would have them open wide to avoid having the tears spilling down my cheeks. This was only a temporary solution, though, and the tears would eventually fall. The only good thing about this is that the action of my tears streaming down my sweaty-then-dried-then-sweaty-then-dried face would propel me toward what was going to get me home. The bus pass. Even without me consciously choosing, I would be moving forward toward the shop, not aware of actually moving my feet, wiping my eyes, scrubbing my cheeks, and smoothing my hair in one smooth (not so smooth) movement. This was self-preservation, as I would rather have looked sweaty and just-mugged than like a girl who lost the will to keep herself upright over her trip home in front of The Brothers. I would be in and out with minimal groaning, as the stairs in front of the shop felt like something put there to torture me specifically, clutching my metro pass in my wee hand, that much closer to home.
So yeah, I feel a little less like that this time, which I am super into.
Still, though. Yesterday was rough.
I was on my way to puppysit for Rose and saw an Urban Oufitters on or around 60th and 3rd on the East Side, so was like "fuckyeah I am totally going there after I'm done with this pup and getting those paintings" BECAUSE YOU GUYS, the day that I found them, found them but resisted buying them, I was so excited about them, I told my friend B all about them, and we perused the UO website together. Thing was, they weren't on there. They weren't ANYWHERE online. I Google searched my ass off, and found nothing. Do you have any idea how many times in my life I haven't been able to find something on Google? 4 times. In my WHOLE LIFE. That's an average of once a year for the time I've actually had internets. Do you understand how good it is to not be able to find something only ONCE every FOUR YEARS?!?? Come ON!
This of course put me into a further state of panic, and I became sure that I would never see those paintings again. I mean, do you REALIZE how many people are in Manhattan at any given time? And that's just the people who live here. The tourists? Forget about it. Also, we're having a RIDICULOUSLY awesome August (minus the possible hurricane and evacuation orders, of course, haha), so it's like everyone has decided that staying longer is ideal. Whatever.
About tourists... well. I practically JUST got here, so am not going to talk shit, but can I just say that the wrong thing to do is come out of the train and stop AS SOON AS your feet hit the sidewalk to consult your map? Oh, you thought you were the only one on the train? And therefore you must be the only one who needs to get out of the steamy stink that is the underground here. So then it would NATURALLY stand to reason that you are the ONLY person who has somewhere to be. Ah. I can see how that could happen (NOICANNOT), so I forgive you (NOIDONOT). It's cool. That kidney shot I "accidentally" gave you with my yoga mat (What? It's a YOGA MAT! It's not like I'm swinging a baseball bat!) will help you remember for next time. You're welcome!
Here's some pictures of the puppy I was with yesterday to soften your hearts towards me, since I just basically admitted to committing battery against strangers...
Yep. That's Rose. She's... 8 weeks old, I think. SO cute.
Okay. So I was done with the wee and on my way. I get to the UO on 60th after a RIDICULOUS bus ride, and as soon as I'm in the housewares section, I see ONE dusty dusky blue frame on its side stacked with other things that wish they were as cool as my future wall art.
I snatch that bitch off the shelf and see two things that make me want to scream with joy. One: It is the dog print. This one is my favorite, and I am instantly SO HAPPY about it, I make a strong mental note to explore getting on free anti-depressants, because while this is an awesome piece of art, it shouldn't give me the feeling that my life is more worth living than it was about 45 seconds ago. Mental post-it, applied.
The OTHER thing I notice is that it's got a little orange sticker that says... oh my god. Could it BE?!??? It says that price that is just enough to mean something, but not so much I would ever have even a whisper of doubt about my purchase....
Oh sweet, sweet nine ninety-nine. The price that is never not-affordable. Even with tax, at a tender $10.88, you hardly put a dent in anyone's pocket.
I do own a fair amount of things from the $9.99 family, and yes, I understand how math works. I know that shit adds up. But come on. $9.99 from $39.99? HOW IS THAT NOT SOMETHING THAT MAKES YOU SO EXCITED?! I literally start producing more saliva when I see shit like that. Just writing this post has me swallowing more than normal.
So. Yeah. I had the dog one. Now to grab the bunny...
What? Oh, that's the only one you have, Urban Outfitters on 60th and 3rd? Well that just can't be true. Your store is call Urban Outfitters, not Urban Dreamkillers!
Shit, now I'm sweating. My mouth has dried up with the quickness and all my extra fluids are now standing on my forehead and upper lip.
I start rummaging through all the not-as-cool-as-what-I-want art on the shelves, hoping to catch a glimpse of the matching frame to the piece I have clutched under my left arm. Nothing. I make a halfhearted attempt to look under the folded bedding for any "accidentally stored" pieces (Bitches can be scandalous. I should know. But when I do it, it's called being RESOURCEFUL. Whatever you call it, I know I'm not the only one. DON'T YOU JUDGE ME!!!)
My search yields nothing, and I swear I am starting to be able to smell myself. I need a kleenex, I can't keep licking this salty lip of mine.
I take a deep breath, realize that the bunny painting is NOT here, and I will have to go to another Urban to get it.
Whatever the journey ahead of me, I instantly decide it will be WORTH. IT. Because I have a plan of how my room is going to look, and these paintings BELONG in there. I knew I could have someone check the inventory at the other stores, so I figured that's just what I would do. I made my way downstairs, heart in throat, fingers (one hand only) crossed.
The adorable part-ginger cashier did confirm for me that my treasure was waiting for me across the lovely island of Manhattan, and that they had five. FIVE. I was so excited I almost peed. I also had him re-affirm the awesome that was the $9.99 price for my beautiful art, and lo and behold, it was Ta-RUTH! This time I did pee. A little. It's fine. I hear that happens to women as they age. Or something. so after my last walk with Lola, I beat cheeks over there and BOUGHT THAT SHIT.
Now they are sitting next to me on Justine and Kevin's desk, because I cannot believe how much I love something like this, and I just want them near me all the time.
I am so weird.
Anyway, they're going to go up on my wall with this mirror from IKEA, one on each side.
Underneath, I am going to hang floating shelves, and this will be my vanity, y'all!
Pics as soon as this ish is up.
Anyway, there's apparently a hurricane coming, so I need to go boil strips of fabric or some shit. Talk to you again in a few if I don't die.