We’re really missing you We’re really missing you Oh, and you’ve only just gone
i miss frankenstein & tallulah.
i miss my bike. a lot.
i miss brunch at cafe mogador. on weekdays.
i miss my overpriced tiny apartment on allen street.
i miss this guy more than he knows.
i miss all my stuff. and might miss it more when i realize i sold/gave away/threw out most of it.
i miss sitting by this window smoking parliament lights. i do not miss the insane crackhead from the half way house next to my window that would wave to me. i think his name was speedy or some shit. ps. i miss tevez & chipotle runs with ponce too.
i miss that bathroom. even though people would call me from the thompson LES & tell me they could see me sitting at my window smoking. i miss that dumb pink vacuum i bought too.
i miss morrissey shows.
this was the farthest away i had ever been. but that was okay because it was carnegie hall. and it was still epic. (thanks krissy).
i miss babysitting cool young french photographer’s bebe’s in the bowery hotel.
i miss being able to hug or cry on this girl any time i wanted.
i miss throwing whatever goddamn kind of party i pleased at bars all over the city with my friends.
i miss this one being the diva.
i miss going to see rom-com’s with this guy.
i miss riding my bike home thru the LES after closing a bar and the light looking like this.
i miss micheladas, guac & chips, spicy grapefruit margaritas, and this neighborhood before it blew up & you couldn’t eat here whenever the fuck you wanted.
i miss laying in bed watching true hollywood stories of kate moss with this one.
i miss that trash can. and i miss always buying ONLY pink toilet paper to match this bathroom. i even miss my guy friends threatening to pee in my panda trashcan cos they thought it looked like the top might spin around if they did. assholes. i love yous.
i miss this view, even though at this point in time mexican construction workers used to watch me shower as they were building that dumb restaurant at the hotel. i miss the plastic sheep that held my cotton balls on the window sill, and i miss my morrissey bobble head that didn’t really bob but that i could tilt to make him look clumsy & shy.
i miss roof top parties. i miss 1997 and drinking 40s, even tho it sucked when you had to pee.. this picture is not from 1997 but some of the people in it knew me from then.
i miss the guy who drew this on me every time i hear wolfsheim.
i miss me when i was really happy in new york.
24 days.
i will see you again new york. get ready for me to miss the shit outta you guys again.
i love you. xx














































































