... grumble, grouse ...

so i'm in new fucking york. that's the good and bad news.

two friends, in addition to ben, were hanging around willing to help me move in with a smile, like a welcome wagon. neither would stay to be treated to a thank you dinner either -- my mom had to settle for buying them thank you margaritas. unfortunately i hadn't eaten anything all day, and the combination of travel, hunger, alcohol, stress, and heat made me sick. luck followed by bad luck, the snake eating its own tail.

today i woke up feeling more adjusted. i unpacked. i squared my shoulders to the windows and, thus, the world, and thought, I can do this! then i crumpled like a suit slid off its hanger. i can't do this. this isn't my city, isn't my home. i don't know my way around; i follow ben, and i follow him into stores where i want him to buy clothes at retail prices in order to look like everyone else. i want to look like everyone else.

my housemate's cat is the worst kind: adult male, bad tempered, and fanged. the supposed "free wireless internet" i was inadvised enough to mention is equally high-maintainance. you have to squat on the arm of the couch facing the fire escape with the grate open in order to make the damn thing work. it wouldn't be worth the frustration if i weren't such an addict, and if i weren't so homesick. currently Home feels like almost any place but here.

at dinner, we discussed the difference between "sullen" and "morose." sullen implies a radiation of hostility while morose is more inwardly directed. i feel a pretty good example of both.