After evidently accidentally opening a hostel accidentally, seeming to be exclusively open & free for my fellow I-Need-To-Get-Out-Of-Winnipeg'gers, a night to myself is a rare gem. I finally started school today, the "real" reason for my big move to the big city, so I finally had an excuse to say no to the Communist's Daughter, Sweaty Betty herself, and the ladies of Henhouse without looking boring or like a bad house-hostess.
With Leonard Cohen on the record player, the sound of the needle dropping lulling me to sleep on the couch with a load of laundry polishing itself off in the distance of my one-bedroom, all-fabulous apartment, I am so tired yet so restless and totally unsure of how to live by myself. After two months here, only two weeks of it have actually been without-houseguest and with the last foreseen one departing tomorrow, I'm totally freaking out. I thought I was looking forward to being all on my own again, but to be perfectly honest it couldn't come at a worse possible time. On Thursday my gentleman friend is taking off for Winnipeg for work & back to his other love from my hometown; a lady that I'm sure is just lovely, but is really one loaf of Winnipeg rye that I quickly find growing stale. I don't wanna be no sister of mercy. I need you, I don't need you. I need you, I don't need you. And all of that jiving around.
I remember you well in the chelsea hotel,
You were talking so brave and so sweet,
Giving me head on the unmade bed,
While the limousines wait in the street.
...
I need you, I don't need you.
I need you, I don't need you.
And all of that jiving around.
No comments:
Post a Comment