So, that happened.

I have been going through this weird, unbelieveable roommate situation that is finally coming to a conclusion. We have now all gotten booted out, due to my roommates making my landlord nuts about the whole situation, and I’m moving back to my hometown.

Don’t for a second think that it’s because of that psychotic, homewrecking, alcoholic, wanna-be Italian grandmother (she’s about 3 seconds from covering the place in doilies. I kid you not. I wake up every morning, fearful that I will walk out of my room, and she’ll be standing there in her mom jeans, hand on hip, glasses on the chain around her neck-she owns all of these things-and scream at me, ‘When you gonna find nice boy and seetle down?’ as she pushes a bowl of oatmeal in my hand and proceeds to finish putting plastic on the furniture) of a roomie I have. Or her silly cronnie either. Ok, so I haven’t blogged about her yet, so here’s a quick rundown:

*very religious, has had conversations with me about the sanctity of marriage, having kids, loving one person, in the eyes of god, yadda, yadda

*Brings a married man home in the wee hours of the morn to her boudoir, lights out, candles on, crappy, mournful Italian music plays until he leaves, conveniently, before we get up. After all, he does have a wife and kids to go home to.

*studied geology in college. Even went so far as to study it in grad school, which she will brag about. Often. Yet, is a secretary/waitress. And not for a geologist or a geologisty restaurant either.

*discusses (at great length) how global warming is just a platform for political candidates and is not a real threat, recycling is unnecessary and wrong, except for countries like Italy (again with the Italy shit. It never stops. She’s from Baltimore, ok?) which are small and have a greater need to recycle, while big (landmass wise) countries like the US can simply pile their trash up in, say, Idaho (no, you da ho) and leave it at that, since it would take more energy to recycle it than it is worth. I’m pretty creative, but even I can’t make this shit up. I actually had this very conversation with her.

There are a whole other host of issues with Crazy McBeal over there, BUT, not the point. The point is, I’m going home. NYC is big and exciting and fast and crowded and kind of confusing and can be real lonely if you don’t come out here with some sort of network of folks. I’ve met some great people and had some amazing times, but the last time I went home, I got the heart flip flop landing in my home city. Tiny little airport that it is, while coming back here was just like, eh. (not the Canadian ‘eh’, just the breathy sort of half hearted utterance of a sy-lable)

But, I’m thrilled to be going back. I have already secured a new place (the rent of which is less than half of what I’m paying here), I’m lining up some freelance work, talked with a guy, who I online stalked to find contact info, who works with independent films in the area and hopefully can work part time in a boookstore. AND, I will be living across the street from the absolute bestest, late, late, late night pizza, greasy, we-will-deep-fry-anything joint. So much for that healthy, weight losing, working out thing I had going. It was fun while it lasted. Come on, I’m 30 now, isn’t a size 6 sort of ridiculous at this point? Really, what am I an Olsen twin? I think not! Beer and fried goodies please!!

So, my next several posts, will be my farewell to the city. What I will miss, what I will gain. What I most definitely will not miss, and the boys I made out with along the way.

Tune in….