like more than a friend.

as of today, i’ve been here for 6 months. i’m writing this down and because, much like my dad, if i don’t write things down they might as well never happened. it also feels really good to acknowledge all of the choices and changes and miles and minutes and giant leaps and incremental steps and you’re so brave’s and i never thought you’d leave’s and how does this work’s and what the fucking fuck’s and do you have a car’s and where do you live’s and yes yes okay’s and no no not anymore’s that took place between “back then” and “right now.” no judgments, no conclusions … just written and confirmed:

this happened.

news flash:
it all kinda sucks.
deal with it.
don’t become part of it.

wasted rita

i’m sick of this record already
let’s wreck all the preconceived notions they bring to it
check all the baggage or better yet burn it
and start all over again

let’s start with your life as you know it
we’re back in our mothers’ wombs folded like notebooks
we had no idea of all the tote bags and meat hooks
waiting out in the world

one september in boston
i lost the will to live
i was just like an astronaut cut from the ship
floating and waiting to die
i was sick of my ordinary life
i was so sick of ordinary life
i was sick of this ordinary life

the human mind gets sick real easy
the human mind gets way fucking sick of beauty
and i know, and it’s happened to me
again and again
again and again

you’ve gotta make it new
you’ve gotta keep it new to keep it true
and you’re allowed to do anything you’ve gotta do
just cause you’re sick of your ordinary life
doesn’t mean you should bottle up and die
lose your way completely but stay alive

ditty bop sha lang lang
ditty bop sha lang sha ditty lang
ditty bop sha lang lang ditty lang

ezra furman, ordinary life

i took a deep breath
and listened to
the old bray of my heart.
i am. i am. i am.

sylvia plath

september was hard. i got back from switzerland and suddenly found myself refreshingly busy at work, but also entangled in nebulous work politics that left me feeling unsure of my instincts and hesitant in my choices and – this is where things started to unravel – slow to stand up for myself. the stress and anxiety swirled, the sound of an old friend’s voice brought me to tears, and i quietly wondered what i was even doing here. it’s funny. in new york i could only handle 48 hours of feeling weird and uncomfortable before i had to do something about it. in portland? weeks, nearly a month. maybe new york really is faster than portland. maybe new york is already at capacity when it comes to weird and uncomfortable. maybe there’s no difference or reason or rulebook and life is whatever the fuck it is and sometimes things are just hard a little longer than the last time they were hard. okay. so september sucked. so what? when i was ready, i took a deep breath and trusted my instincts and wore a lot of black and put on heels and blasted beyoncé and made it abundantly clear to myself and others:

i am. i am. i am.

vagary, n.

the mistake is thinking
there can be an antidote
to the uncertainty.

david levithan

back in february i chose “go through it” as my 3 word thesis for 2015 (full breakdown of my previous 3 word theses here) and maybe this is one of those “ugh shut up this horoscope could vaguely apply to anyone” eye roll inducing coincidences, but “go through it” has been a really on point personal compass for me. i started thinking about it this morning and realized i’ve gone through a lot of very real [late late 20-something] life shit since february:

negotiating my worth
letting go of new york
packing up my life
moving two thousand miles away
finding a new apartment
dating long distancing
breaking up long distance
producing long distance
forming new and meaningful friendships
feeling lost, obnoxious, alone
feeling smart, strong, capable
feeling nothing, something, everything

i get asked uhhhhlot whether i (a) love it here (b) miss new york. i think people really want to hear (a) yes! (b) no!, but neither of those answers feel totally right and i have absolutely no poker face when it comes to my personal life (or filter … sorry family). every time i meet someone new i brace myself for the inquiry and when it inevitably comes up i end up rambling emo-laden nonsense for 15 minutes until something along the lines of “ummm i don’t know i’m ok” blubbers out. the truth is, i can’t answer these questions because i’m not done yet.

i’m going through it.

it’s such a
being always

langston hughes, “ennui”

i’m super broke right now and thought i was depressed due to said super broke-ness, but then i found the new chet faker feat. banks and decided i’m not depressed. i’m just experiencing a temporary lack of funds combined with a temporary lack of good new tunes to put on repeat while i try not to buy anything, ever.

update → i just saw a corgi.
so maybe everything’s all right?
idk. you tell me, universe.


ps – if you’re feeling like throwing money at something, i will happily be your something. $5-$5000. i can untangle your cords. i’d love to untangle your cords.

1. monica visited me this past weekend and life immediately got 10x more wonderful. i tried to show her my version of portland through the few good friends i’ve made here thus far instead of forcing participation in misc plug and play fun time activities. highlights/mvp’s included river swims + sun bathing at rooster rock with launa, michael, and ryan, dinner + dessert with emily, maggie, and christopher, and goo gone delivery + stoop sitting with eddye and bo. fyi, universe: i would not be upset if monica decided to repatriate and make portland her new home.
2. clear skies, deep blue breaths. everyone says i came at the right time. cautiously optimistic.
3. all the murals here feel like they were painted just a few hours before i stumbled upon them. bold, unapologetic fuckers. this one is in southeast and reminds me of bowery & houston.
4. i left my [now discontinued] joe fresh aviators at michael’s 4th of july bbq east of se 82nd, never to be heard from again. rip officer marsh (may 2013 – july 2015). let the record reflect, i am very fond of these classic gold ray-ban aviators and ship most things to my work address.
5. i feel prickly and weird right now and decided that’s okay. quitting, packing, moving, breaking, hurting, healing – an onslaught of all the prickly, weird things all at once (not sure how else i’d be). at least the universe is always in its perfect order even if it doesn’t feel like it, at all.

ha but srsly
he dnt do fancy
been thinking a lot about big love lately, about wanting to give it and get it back just as big in return. i worry that i’m turning into a heart broken pessimist, but i have a hard time imagining anything remotely close to that happening here or just generally, like even in the far off distant future when i feel stronger and more sure of my shit again. but, to be fair, it’s been less than 2 months since jonathan and i broke up, so maybe that’s more of a normal, guarded, self protected, to-be-expected thought pattern than a pessimistic one. i’ve also been thinking a lot about this ikea kitchen island, mid century modern low boy dressers, whether or not i’m killing my fern, losing 10 pounds, not drinking for a few months, 8×10 area rugs, and finding some sweet landscape paintings to hang on my bedroom walls.

amy’s brain.
welcome to the jungle.

ps – where da fuck are all the jews at, portland? goddammit. srsly tho.


been encountering waves of sadness in the evening, lately. after the emails stop and the east coast crawls into bed and the northwest sun fades, i try to sit with the day, sit with the quiet, sit with whatever’s changed, whatever’s the same, but i just … can’t. i can’t because my mind is a wind tunnel and a wave of doubt and longing and uncertainty and loneliness has just rolled in, consistent and thick and unforgiving and … i know (i know).

it’ll pass.
i’ll come back.
i’ll be better for it.
i’m just in it.


people say that what we’re all seeking is a meaning for life. i don’t think that’s what we’re really seeking. i think that what we’re seeking is an experience of being alive, so that our life experiences on the purely physical plane will have resonances within our own innermost being and reality, so that we actually

the rapture
of being

joseph campbell, the power of myth

i bet bethany and zovig would agree.

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1.  this is a picture of me all tuckered out. news flash = it’s really difficult to feel fully nested when you’re missing major pieces of furniture and readily accessible funds to do a goddamn thing about it. this being my current steez, i now spend the majority of my penniless down time between non-rent paychecks rearranging all the furniture i do have in an attempt to prove i have autonomy over my own life space, thus pooping myself out on a fairly consistent basis.
2/3.  a few weeks ago, launa invited me to her birthday party on the coast and i said “hell yea” and justin gave me a ride and offered to show me lots of cool, coasty things. to recap, we saw a bunch of rogue sea lions, climbed astoria column, got pizza + beer at fort george brewery, and checked out haystack rock. then we got to launa’s and partied allllll night long. jk. then we got to launa’s and ate chips and chit chatted till like 9:30 and drove home. it. was. awesome.
4.  god bless the internet and its ability to foster deep, genuine relationships. seriously, because of apps like tinder (how i met jonathan) and sites like (how he met launa and justin and a ton of other wonderful pdx people), i moved across the country to a city i’ve visited exactly once and was suddenly blessed with an incredible group of non-work people to befriend and learn from and lean on. just in case no one said it yet today: thank you, internet.
5. the friday before memorial day i attended a killer bbq in northeast where glazed donuts may or may not have been placed on the grill and then topped with grilled pineapple. unconfirmed.

my first 4 days at work were wonderful. as expected, first names didn’t stick and the place isn’t perfect, but i walked home everyday with a genuine feeling that i belonged and the terrible horrible no good very bad heartache of leaving and accepting 10,000 changes into my life (me = taurus, change = kryptonite) would soon be worth it. then, friday rolled around and everyone started to clear out early for the weekend and this foreign feeling of dread came over me as i realized i’d be spending mine alone. suddenly, “i belong” became “i’m alone” and, before i knew it, tears were welling up at 5pm on a friday on my 5th day of work.

so soon?

thankfully, i was intercepted by a divine messenger coworker who was coming over to tell me she was also from indiana (my “about me” bio had just gone out to the entire agency … le sigh) and the second she saw me fighting back tears she knew exactly what was up and pulled me into a nearby conference room. she was kind and didn’t judge me for crying on my 5th day and made me feel better and gave me her cell and suggested we hang out. she said in a few months i’d look back on this day and laugh which reminded me of dan and jay, the two people who kept me laughing when i was knee deep in tragedy.

actual tragedy.
terrible tragedy.
which this was just … not.

so i packed up my things and walked home from my first week feeling both like i belonged and made the right decision but also like i was fucking uncomfortable and sad and lonely. the next morning, i did what i always do when i feel weird for more than 24hrs: something about it. i went to yoga and got coffee and installed a cable modem and texted some friends of friends i was e-introduced to (plus one i made on my own!) to say “hi how are you i’d love to hang out.” within a few hours, i had dinner plans and an art opening to attend and – well, whaddyaknow – i didn’t feel so fucking uncomfortable anymore.

fast forward.

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ever since emily came to visit last week and lit up my whole world by hanging out with me in the east village for a few sweet afternoon hours, i’ve had this nonstop craving for [waaaaay better than just, like, pretty good] coffee and can now only bring myself to drink a+ premium cups before i head to the top shelf roasting motherland. would drink again highlights of this totally impromptu bougie nyc coffee tour include:

third rail
box kite
la colombe

peace ♥ caffeine.

there’s no way i was born to just pay bills and die.

– hermi blutsauger

an update, perhaps? well, since last friday my days have been a beautiful blur of not working, cleaning, cleansing, practicing, packing, snacking, selling, cycling, post liking. i’m having such a blissful good in between time that i almost want to say “i don’t want this part to end,” but that would be a lie because in blurry big picture actuality, i DO want this part to end so i can move to portland and start my job and lease an apartment and find good peoples and forge genuine, long lasting friendships and try my damnedest at long distance and eat all the things and bike all the lanes and slowly piece together a life of obnoxious to some loud laughs and freckled woodblock chocolate ice cream and non-stop marshydog™ sightings. that being said, i want the record to hereby reflect that i would be the most f-ing joyful and productive housewife this world has ever known. okay? cool. thank you.

{and let us say, “amen”}

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1.  happiness is canceling all my weekend plans, hopping on a plane to portland with less than 24 hours notice, and waking up with the next day’s sun in a hotel king bed next to this guy.
2.  the ace portland is everything i expected, old timey photo booth next to repurposed wood coffee table covered in meticulously unarranged succulents and mason jar terrariums included.
3.  i’m worried i won’t be able to wear converse at my new job. if you’re reading this and can confirm one way or the other, please kindly let me know. the operative word here being “kindly” because if the answer is “nope, ditch those bad boys” i may need a moment. this vvv strong, stubborn, and sensitive taurus can only handle so much unmedicated life change all at once.
4.  it’s getting hard to tell people i’m moving across the country and doing long distance with jonathan when the nearly universal response is “i never thought you’d leave new york. have you ever been to portland? long distance is so hard.” god bless the special few that fill up with pride and exclaim, “that’s awesome! i can totally see you there. ooO long distance sex is amazing!”
5.  fuck fuck fuck i’m almost 29 and i still don’t know how to cook a god damn fucking thing shit.
6.  friday, march 27 is both my last day at work and [what would have been] my dad’s 66th birthday. i keep thinking how much he would have loved jonathan and what huge kicks they’d get out of each other. i bet if he knew where i was headed, he’d be proud of me and thrilled i was moving closer to la la land (“los angeles” in kim-speak). i bet he’d be really proud of me.

*this post is brought you by a recent trip to portland to interview for my dream job.
spoiler alert: it went well.

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it is perhaps when our lives are at their most problematic that we are likely to be most receptive to beautiful things.

alain de botton, the architecture of happiness

i’ve been struggling with a triple dose of severely limited attention span + blogger’s block + work life imbalance since mid december, but i wanted to tell you that i miss you so much it aches, i think about blogging (and the act of not blogging) everyday, and i finally figured out this year’s three word thesis:

go through it.

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“in the 2000s, there will be only answers. the demand will be such that there will only be answers. all texts will be answers, in fact. i believe that man will be literally drowned in information, in constant information. about his body, his corporeal future, his health, his family life, his salary, his leisure. it’s not far from a nightmare. there will be nobody reading anymore.”

in 1985, marguerite duras gave her predictions for the future to the french publication les inrocks and the translation is as prophetic as it is poetic. i haven’t finished a book in years.

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1.  i’ve been meaning to try sweetgreen for almost a year now. i first read about it in grub street’s roundup of new healthy nyc restaurants (also how i got hooked on dimes) and finally managed to swing by over thanksgiving. i went for the ever-popular kale chicken cesear because the guy in front of me ordered it and he seemed to know what was up. good stuff. did not regret.
2.  have you heard of @coffeenclothes? it’s this instagram account run by @ryyyguy and it’s photos of exactly what it sounds like … coffee n’ clothes. i really want to be on it, but every time i think to take a photo i’m usually (a) not wearing anything interesting (b) done with my coffee (c) both. i thought my leopard print whynot entry was a solid contender, but – alas – no dice.
3.  it wouldn’t be a proper amy’s list without at least one dog pic, now would it? big ups to buddy the big blue bottle dog for being fidgety and helping me maintain dog person status elite.
4.  last friday was jwt’s annual holiday party and, much to the dismay of many, it was held in a strange, far away place called “brooklyn.” thankfully, the city folk groans died down after a few open bar drinks were had and people let the good lumberjack themed times roll. sidebar = i made a lil’ website for it so all 200 jwt offices around the world could party along via #jwt150 (the party coincided with jwt’s 150th anniversary). awww look, everyone. baby’s first microsite.
5.  oh, and morgenstern’s is making the only ice cream that matters. 2014 flavor collabs, son.

go outside of yourself.
look at yourself walking down the street.
make yourself tumble on a stone and fall.
watch it.
watch other people looking.
observe carefully how you fall.
how long it takes and in what rhythm you fall.
observe as seeing a slow motion film.

yoko ono, 1964 spring

ps – the quotes above were generated by if you have to come into work tomorrow and need a delightful time suck to get you through the [inevitably quiet and totally ghost town-y] day, i highly recommend a gander over there. spot on stuff.

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have nothing to do on a wednesday night …

6:15 = stop by looks salon for a nearly painless eyebrow threading.
6:30 = pop into 16 handles and taste a bunch of fro-yo without actually buying anything.
6:45 = take a seat at b&h dairy and have the grilled cheese and tomato soup special.
7:15 = hit up davey’s ice cream and purchase a cup of hot chocolate to go.
7:30 = walk into lulu nails and get a pedicure while sipping on said hot chocolate.
9:15 = go to bed.*

* based on a true story.

i went ahead and added a mystery tee to my first ever cotton bureau purchase because … what’s the saying? live a little? treat yourself? nothing tastes as good as a soft tee feels? trust your life? gotta get up to get down? to the windows? to the walls? till the sweat drips down my tbd cotton bureau mystery tee? … aaaaanyway, i really really really hope i get hayley’s damn tee or nicole’s archer tee or tania’s prove them wrong tee.

any of those,
amongst other things,
would be niiiiice.