Summer is definitely here. My sister’s wedding was a total success, and her new husband Matt continues to be, the man. He brewed 45 gallons of delicious home-brew for the week long wedding party. The beach house where we stayed was beach front, complete with a tiki bar and swimming pool. After their beautiful ceremony, a happening party ensued. I learned many things about my old family, and my new family. #1) I am not the only one in the Moriarty clan who should not be allowed to drink whiskey, it apparently ignites an ancient Irish spirit in all of us that inadvertently turns us into the life of the party. An entertaining, but dangerous trick for any Moriarty to attempt. Thank you aunt Kellie for the entertainment. #2) Even though Matt’s cousin Brad appears to be incredibly tan, his ass is not. #3) Chris Thomas is the most fascinating person to go night swimming with, under a moonless sky he has the ability to magically transform into a water lizard, running across the water, faster, and more sexy than Jesus.
After a week of beach, margaritas, and home-brew, I was forced into the trek back to New York. My itinerary that morning involved waking up at 5:00 am to leave the beach house and embark on the 3 hour drive to the Raleigh Durham airport, chauffeured by my Dad’s wife Shelly. I was then to fly to D.C. and transfer to my flight to LaGuardia. This doesn’t seem that awful, except for the fact that I had been drinking vodka slushies on the beach with Matt and Brad all day the day before, and then ended up beach bar hopping with them until 2:00 am— needless to say, I was still puking by the time we had to leave for the airport. Crammed into the back seat of the miniature Toyota whatever, it was me, my 8 year old brother, and a giant suitcase between us. Might I point out, that Shelly is a terrible driver, but, luckily I made it, BARF-FREE!
I find myself back in New York, it is June 3rd and it’s Chris’s birthday. I make a pound cake, we meet up with friends for BBQ and drinks. It’s an overall successful night, although I head home early because I still can’t escape the feeling of vodka slushie creeping around inside my liver. The next day my best friend Ashely, arrives in New York with her beau, Scott. The next few days we explore the city and RAGE together as usual. We do a lot of walking and talking, and even discover a great bar, The Boxcar Lounge, in the Lower East Side, that offers 2-fer-1’s (my FAVE!) from 6-10 pm! She later heads up the coast with Scott for a few days. During this time I decide to volunteer at a few of Chris’s work events. This involves me playing bartender at after parties, which involves me drinking a lot of free wine and beer. Ashley returns from Vermot, we have hugs and kisses and say our farewells. The next morning, Chris leaves for North Carolina. I am alone for one day. I sleep until 2:00 pm, buy groceries, do laundry, watch VHS tapes on our projector.
The next morning my friend Matty arrives from Minneapolis. A week of art museums and raging continues. I also discover that my friend Miguel (Monadnoc as I know him) is in town for a few days searching for apartments. We combine forces and again end up at the Boxcar Lounge. The next day, Monadnoc ends up deciding on an apartment two doors down from the Boxcar, which means that once he moves here, I am going to have a few too many drunken bike rides back to Brooklyn. Last night I again had an evening of solace and sobriety. I slept for 11 hours through ground shaking thunderstorms. It is unclear how my mental and emotional health are at this point, because now all I know is that summer has arrived, and why stop this 3 week bender anytime soon?
It has been almost five months since I moved to Brooklyn, New York. It was my hope that after a month I would be writing home with the news that all of my dreams were coming true and my life was better than ever before. Truth is, up until last week, life was pretty brutal, and not in the awesome way. To better explain myself, I should probably point out what I initially hoped to get out of New York. It was my plan that I would move here not only to be with the man of my dreams, Chris Thomas, but also that I would finish up my 4 year degree that I started back in the fall of 2004. I was, however, not accepted to either of the schools of my choice.
So here I am, back at square one. It is not so much that I am back at square one, but more like I never left. I moved to New York also hoping to escape some of my grief. In July of last year I lost by best friend, my mom passed away suddenly. It has almost been a year, and even typing those words, brings me to my knees. It is not getting easier, and the more confused I get about the direction of my life, the more I just want to talk to her. I hoped that there would be some fuel from my grief, that it would propel me into a fury of artistic inspiration, where my anger and depression would be able to vent and release some of my pain. This has not happened.
What does an artist do when they find that their most important resources are being held hostage by their own bereavement? The only solution I can come up with, is to regress. I’ll get back to this idea a little later.
So here I am, five months into my New York experiment. Chris and I just moved into a big sunny 1 bedroom apartment in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. This move has already been a miracle for the Sindt-Thomas morale. When we were moving things in, I realized we didn’t have a kitchen table. It was also obvious that there wasn’t room for both of our desks to be in the office. This came as a relief; after living in a 7’x13’ room together for 4 months, with two desks and a queen-sized bed, I wasn’t too hurt by the idea of separate creative spaces. So naturally, my desk ended up in the kitchen. At first I thought, whoa whoa whoa, gender roles are a bit in my face here if my office is the kitchen! Our good friend and hero Eric Jernigan, who was helping us move, pointed out, “There are two huge windows in here, you might like your desk in the kitchen…”
After a day of unpacking, I realized that the kitchen is definitely the most beautiful room in the house, the best lit, and most importantly, there’s beer and food in there! My desk happily remains, in the middle of the kitchen. This is where I plan for my therapeutic stage of regression to begin. Using my ever growing ache to be a small child, I plan to begin a stuffed-animal making frenzy, in my kitchen, with my Mom’s prized Pfaff sewing machine. This is the only answer that makes any sense to me. Chris and I have a lot of visitors coming through in the month of June, so it might be a little while before I’ll have pictures of my creatures to post, but they’ll be coming soon…
Tomorrow morning I fly out to North Carolina for my older sister Jenni’s wedding. I will be spending the week in a beach house with my family! I am so excited I can hardly sit still.
So for now, things at Big Moma’s House are looking a little more on the bright side. A new apartment in an awesome neighborhood, a plan for self-therapy, a wedding in the family, and friendly faces throughout the month of June (Abby, Ashley, Matty Lawler). It’s only going to get better!