to rest your head; a place to (s)

“It always amazes me to think that every house on every street is full of so many stories; so many triumphs and tragedies, and all we see are yards and driveways.” -glenn close

how strange it is to me, today, to be in this house without roommates. a house without roomates! when have i lived like this last? with matt in dirty dirty no man’s land southwest philly? ( this was above a neighbor who was found by police to have been peeing in the corner of his room since he was old and depressed and did not see the point in making it to the bathroom. this man lived above a girl who loved books and i think also loved matt. i should have let her have him, but instead i think i was rather rude to her. or didnt talk to her about proust or whatever important literature she was going on about whenever i saw her. )
/// matt and i somehow almost never went grocery shopping. we had friends at the thai place and would frequent little petes diner late at night. we watched the iraqi war start on a tv in a diner that doesnt exist any longer near moore school of art. we didnt have a tv so we went there, to be solumn with coffees.

i sort of made him be a raw foodist on our crosscountry roadtrip. and then i would sell half my clothes and buy over priced veggies burgers at a cafe in carmel by the sea. in the actual apt we lived in, i only remember matt and i
eating: apples.
having: a difficult time of trying to cook rhubarb once.
and i have somewhere in my possession: an image of me eating grapes naked in that apartment, which means we once ate those, too. i think i was also writing sheet music in that image, however, which i dont legitmately know how to do. so maybe the grape picture was a set up.

matt and i lived together well enough until i went to london and maintained a variety of relationships with various boys named jesse (alex i hope you are laughing at this; at least one of you jesses, i hope you happen to read this blog today). matt had told do what i needed to do in london. when people SAY things like that to me, i DO do what i want to do. what do i want to do? i want to never sleep in my own bed! so i told matt all of this after arriving home from london, and then i feel asleep, bc i was tired from months of gallivanting throughout europe. matt left while i was sleeping. he left me a note saying he was driving to his parents house in indiana. he wanted to run through cornfeilds. he did not have a cell phone. i could not find my keys. i had to put rocks in the front door when i left so i could make it back in the apt, and i couldnt go far from it.

he and i stopped living together, eventually (after he returned from the cornfeilds) and i went on to have a number of wonderous people living in the rooms next to me. many many roommates throughout the years. sweet girls i could confide in and get dressed up with, and then try to remember guys names with the next morning. then people who were the only people in all of stamford i knew, at all, at first. we all had our computers in the same room upstairs. i enjoy thinking of that for some reason. good, live jazz music was my brooklyn soundtrack for my first year-ish there. moved in with a british banker and a parisian jazz pianist. then three brothers from amherst living in one room, one wall away from me, for an entire summer. and so on and so forth and thank you all for buying toliet paper so many times and not talking to me when i was often hungover before i had a cup of takeout coffee. /// and now they are all gone. they are just words on a page on a computer screen. i am now living with a boyfriend in a house that we are going to at once try to make a home and also not get attached to, bc we are not buying it and i may or may not stay around here.

…. its a sunshiny day and i can see the bay from my back deck. i begged ryan to cook migas for me and he is, and i am wearing sunglasses in bed bc i played apples to apples all night with ryans coworkers and their wives, and i needed to drink a lot to win each game. ha.

i dont know where i was going with this but ive lost it ten times over. i wrote more about matt than i did about ryan and i living here. thats ok. i have many weeks to write about the latter situation.

this may be of small interest to you alex: the last time i saw matt was in scotland in a really creepy very dark, damp park. we went to a dive bar and drank beers. my friend then gave us the heads up on a party happening in this amazing vegan-activisist-jazz bar place, so we all headed over (dustin, matt, and i). ex-bfs meeting new boyfriends in funny countries.

matt had been living in the muslim part of paris before moving to glasgow for yet another degree. in paris, he said he had learned a lot about that religion, and hung out w them drinking mint tea. as far as i know, he didnt give a fuck about seeing me in scotland. /// and as far as i know, he is likely drinking another national beverage with all of his aloofness and wasted intelligence in some other far away land. hes probably being a fantastic roommate for someone right about now. he had excellent taste in music, and would often put small flowers in bud vases throughout the house.

About suzyloves

i am flowers on the side of the road. 'yes' and 'joy' are important to me. i may not re-read what i write, and i never won a spelling bee, but i do hope you enjoy. the world is getting larger, and i fear our 'human-ness' is growing smaller. this is my attempt to connect. i do love you and i do miss you, so this is my hand reaching out so we can all be love <3
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3 Responses to to rest your head; a place to (s)

  1. Jason says:

    Was the vegan-activisist-jazz bar place called Stereo???

  2. suzyloves says:

    yes, totally! cant believe i described it well enough for you to get that!! unless that is just where sylvan and her rad friends always hung out;)

    • Jason says:

      Well, it was either that or its sister vegan-activisist-jazz bar, Mono. There are a paucity of vegan-activisist-jazz bars in Scotland.

      It’s were all we vegan-activisist types would go after class and eat vegan-activisist-jazz food (which is like normal vegan food but tastes slightly of vinyl).

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