She passed.

I was out with Chase at his bar, drinking after hours when I finally got the nerve to invite him home with me. I just didn't want to be alone. As soon as I stepped through the door, I barely looked at my phone before the hysterics set in. There it was, plain as day, a text from Kim.

"She passed."

...........................

She passed. And I could feel my lungs constrict and my eyes begin to burn and before I knew it, I was shoving Chase out the door, crying, "I don't want you to see me like this! I'm so sorry, but you have to go. You have to go. You have to go NOW."

Then, in a drunken 7:30AM stupor, I proceeded to call as many people as I could think of that would know what I was going through. Not one person picked up. I left an incoherent message on David and Brenda's phone. A few incoherent, accusatory messages on my mother's phone which Tracey so kindly deleted before she could read them. I said horrible things like, "How could you let me go through this by myself AGAIN?!?"

Everyone at TAO has been super supportive and I'm so lucky to be surrounded by so many people that care about me. They seem to understand that I feel things deeper than most.

Scott Benfield and I are beginning an actual friendship - after the fact. I can't see the point of playing games and being mad at someone when life is obviously so fleeting. It doesn't make sense to me. It's a waste of time and energy, it truly is.

So here I sit, trying on funeral-dress choices, with a glass of Malbec in one hand and a cigarette in the other, dreading this trip to Florida more than any other. Can't decide if the idea of me driving a rental car 12 hours to Kentucky to console my mother is thrilling or just plain awful. It may be nice to be out on the open highway again. I do miss the feeling of an open driver's window. Maybe that'll be my chance to watch the leaves changing for once.

I've been very drawn to the fall foliage the past few weeks. Now that I live in New England, the changing of the seasons is so apparent and so affecting, it's difficult not to want to take some time to appreciate what the universe is so vehemently placing in front of us four times a year - things are constantly CHANGING.

Kathryne broke it to me today that she doesn't know how long she wants to be in New York. I'm pretty sure LD has something to do with it - she wants to marry the guy. For me, things are a bit different. Kathryne wants to leave it all, I want to bury myself further inside. I want to live and work in Manhattan. I want to take walks all day and go grocery shopping and come home every night for a glass of wine and dinner. I want to date real men and have a real job where I don't have to live my life as a perrenial college kid.

Change may be what I need the most right about now.

Change gonna come.

Things have been thrown up into the air for me.

Kathryne and I decided to stay in the apartment on Grand and Bushwick. The backyard is too important to the cats, and if the cats ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. So, we're just going to rearrange and redecorate and paint the place to make it feel like a home instead of a frat house. Maybe even buy some artwork.

I slept with Eric Kramer on his birthday - it seems to be a "special occasion" kind of hooking up when it comes to Eric Kramer. It was actually a lot of fun. We partied til 7 in the morning and then he took me home and we had great, sweaty sex for a couple of hours - then I woke up and left with a goofy smile on my face. I remember thinking in the cab ride home from Astoria, "We just FIT together."

David Levin thoroughly scolded me and made me feel like a pathetic piece of shit when I told him what I'd done. He brought into light the fact that it was ONLY sex, and that my "How's your night going?" texts were too girlfriendy.

So I went out a couple of nights later with Scott Benfield and Melissa Giges. We started at his roommates bar next to Madison Square Garden and Penn Station. We ended up at an Irish Pub next door where I proceeded to fuck him in the bathroom. He had me bent over against a wall, and the lights kept flicking on and off when his thrusts would knock my elbow into the lightswitch. One of my top New York City moments, hands down.

The other night, I ended up going to Lavo for a shot after Scott Gunderson got wasted at work and became belligerent with us, which ultimately got him fired. I saw Eric Kramer kissing face with some banged up blonde chick, Scott Benfield across the bar ignoring me, and David Levin pushing everyone out the door so I wouldn't see anything that was going on. Eric Kramer looked me in the eye, walked right past me, and got into a cab with her.

Then, at the Pig afterwards, Scott Benfield did the same thing. He had hurt my feelings all night at work because he was snapping at me when I would speak to him. Then he walked out with another girl that he had been speaking to for about 10 minutes. At that point, I was in tears at how stupid I had been.

So, my new mission at work is not to make eye contact with Scott. It's working. He's actually being very nice to me, and subconsciously trying to make amends. I can't decided if I like him or not. He disarms me a little bit.

I officially did my very first open mic in NYC.

After literally years of Kathryne telling me to do it, I did. It was at a place called The Shop in Brooklyn - filled with motorcycles and American flags and whiskey. It was called "Americana" open-mic.

I flipped out most of the day, walking around with sweaty palms, being followed by VV trying to calm me down. I took three naps.

When it came time, I put on my lipstick, grabbed my guitar, and walked out into the city rain. As I ascended the steps from the Bedford Subway Stop out onto Driggs Avenue, I recall stopping to notice the rusty yellow paint on the walls. My first time playing in New York, and I chose to take a mental picture of rusty yellow paint.

I saw the neon lights coming from the bar, and people walking in and out with musical instruments, and fear gripped my heart again. I walked right past and stepped into a doorway to breathe and think for a minute. I had come this far. I knew that I had to walk in and sign up. "One step at a time."

I took one last inhale and stepped into the bar, immediately scanning the room for Jay, the bartender that had told me about the open mic in the first place. I found him and signed up second on the list. I then took two celebratory shots of Evan Williams. It was then that I met Elaine, the other girl with a guitar and country accent. She was from Charlotte, and just as nervous as me.

When Jay looked at me from the mic and mouthed, "You're up!", I just about shit my pants. I took a deep breath and said, "Okay..." and pulled out Dad's Takemine. They put me on a high stool and plugged in my guitar. After fiddling with the buttons on the guitar and pretending to know what I'm doing, they told me to press the pedal thingie and go.

So I did.

I sang Tom Waits, Looking for the Heart of Saturday Night. I got applause at the end, and somebody said, "That's the prettiest I've ever heard Tom Waits sound!"

Jay mouthed, "One More!"

So I busted out Someday I'll Get Out Of These Bars. Dad would have been proud. I unplugged the guitar, and exited off stage, heart pounding out of my chest. I watched Elaine get up and perform next, and she was great, too. A better guitarist, but I had the voice.

I immediately bought us a round of whiskey, exchanged information and walked out, so damn proud of myself.

I did it.

And now I want more. I want to do a better job next time. I sort of liked it.

I have that show coming up on the 30th.

After the open-mic, I went and saw Jeremy perform to an empty bar in Bushwick. I still carry a flame for that stupid, stupid boy.

Just spoke with Uncle Mike. After thinking about him and Grandma all day and literally writing it down on my list, he called me. He sounded like someone beat him up. Grandma is not doing well - she's in crisis care, and they don't know if she has a day or a week. I believe that I spoke to her for the last time. Uncle Mike handed her the phone and said, "It's Natalie. NATALIE. NATALIE."

She sounded frailer than ever, I could hear that she was dying.

She didn't understand me well, and I couldn't understand her either, so we just said I love you a couple times. And that was that.

I'm confused as to how I'm feeling. We've been waiting for so long for this, and now that it's here, I'm very sad and relieved at the same time...should I feel guilty for those feelings? I think it might be cause Grandma's already gone.

I am dreading flying to Florida for my grandmother's funeral.

This is one of those milestones that are littered throughout life. You never see them coming, but they shape who you are forever after.

Stagefright.

I can't even begin to try to cover everything that has happened in the past few months.

Jeremy Beazlie and I had the epic "rowboating in Central Park" fight. Never really spoke to him again.

Started dating Kath's friend at Red, Jeff Ribakoff.

Started out amazing. But disaster, as it so often does, came upon us.

The last date was atrocious. He basically verbally abused me after not fucking me for a whole month. I would have been absolutely insane to stick around. I still don't think he realizes what he did wrong.

The restaurant is great. As much as I hate being in that building, it is a pretty sweet gig. We make a ton of money, see celebrities on a regular basis, and work in one of the most famous restaurants in the country. Can't complain too much. I slept with a coworker recently: Scott Benfield. I had my eye on him since day one and went out and got him. :) Then, I slept with Eric Kramer again on his birthday. I guess he could call me his "special occasion" booty-call.

Finally showed up at a Baby Brother show and got pretty friendly with Pavlina, the new girlfriend. This was after Jeremy had his hands on me, trying to play it cool. We had a conversation with our eyes, before I told him I didn't really have much to say to him. Then, Pavlina walked in and the moment was gone forever. The look on Jeremy's face when he walked outside and saw that Pavlina and I had missed the entire show because I was telling her EVERYTHING - was priceless. I felt good about the night. I really did. I was proud of myself for holding it together and getting my revenge stealthily and thouroughly.

Rachel has asked me to play a fundraiser on September 30th, and I agreed. However, now that September 30th is a few weeks away, I'm panicking. I hired Andy to give me lessons, and he came over today to teach me how to restring the guitars. He wants me to play two open-mics between now and the fundraiser and have a couple songs ready to play for him on Sunday. I'm internally freaking out and trying to wrestle with the fact that this is it. This is the part where I take the leap and face all these fears that have paralyzed me for years. I'm proud of what I've written, of how I sing, and need to realize that I am Butch's daughter. I'm gonna show them what I can do, and I hope they like it.

If not, they can all go fuck themselves.

But they will.

I hope.

Oh, God.

Christmas in NYC...

Feels like the song, "Silver Bells".

Bustling, cold, broke, and preparing for Mom to come in 2 days.

:)

Autumn in the City.

I officially started my Autumn this year with a hike up at West Point along the Hudson. At 7:30 in the morning, I was at Grand Central Station with my coffee in my hand; looking up at the ceiling of the Main Concourse, counting the constellations. The morning sunlight poured through the famous three cathedral windows. I took a black & white picture, but even then thought, "This'll never do it justice."

We climbed a mountain in a town called Cold Springs, New York. We arrived after a sleepy train ride with the entire left side of the train facing directly onto the Hudson River. It was relaxing, and to say the least, a very stark reminder that we were leaving the hustle and bustle of New York City.

Cody, Suzanne, and I climbed a mountain that day. We stumbled upon an old rock quarry, and the sheer height of the cliffs was astounding. We walked on a path that went between the towering avalanche-waiting-to-happen and an old burnt patch of trees.

We ate trail mix at the top, after a surprisingly rigorous hike that made my legs feel like Jell-O on the way down. We smiled at the top, bundled up and looking out over West Point and the bend of the Hudson River. When the raindrops started to fall, we booked it down the mountain and into the only bar on Main Street - surrounded by 15 Antique Shops.

The train took us back to Grand Central, a little worse for the wear, but happy hikers.

Hindsight is....

Well. Spent the evening watching Roddy pull the same moves he used on me on some Asian chick with a cute haircut.

Then he kissed her outside while I watched with a cigarette in my hand. I was curt to him and he noticed.

Then I walked out with more of his free booze in my belly.

Enough.

Enough now.

The Walls Are Back.

Hokay.

So.

Here is the world.

Francisco moved to Washington D.C. I sent a horrible text that was meant for Kathryne to Adam. Something about how I cried when I left his house and wah-wah-wah-wah me kind of shit. He broke it off with me. Then I did it again when he tried to make up. I did it AGAIN.

Fucking Modern Technology.

So.

He up and moved to Seattle. Really. He did. He's already there and settled and everything.

Kathryne and Ian decided to hook me up with their friend, Jeremy, because they swore that we would fall in love immediately. So, I showed up at the Baby Brother concert in Manhattan - looking fabulous of course. And we met. And there were fireworks. At first I thought he was a bit odd - a bit off. And then we were like magnets. Attached at the hip. He kissed me on the couch that Adam and I moved into the living room. He would get so very excited when I walked into a room - his face lit up and he would flash me a big ol' grin and wrap his arms around me. We would sit in his apartment in Times Square and watch episodes of the British Office. We would smoke cigarettes out of his bathroom window and have interesting conversations with his incredibly intellectual roommate, Henry. We would make love...it was really on its way to being pretty amazing. We were learning each other. He would come to Brooklyn and hang out all the time - we took tons of pictures. I posted them on Facebook.

That's when things got weird.

He would act very aloof and told me he was just EXTREMELY busy for the next month with work. Busy. Great.

Here we go again, I thought.

So, I tested him. Well, if you get a minute, call me if you'd like to hang out.

Intake of breath through teeth. Yeeeeeeeah. If I can.

:)

Alright, Jeremy.

Last time I heard from him.

He untagged himself from all the Facebook pictures, which actually sort of hurt.

I actually gave the guy the benefit of the doubt and believed the universe had actually maybe given me something really good this time.

But. It was a lie. I lied to myself.

Summer has come to New York City and it's absolutely terrible. Better now that I bought fans for the house, but terrible all the same. I like winter so much better here. I just can't wait for Fall and Christmas.

Work is the same...stressful and not lucrative enough...it should get better in the winter. Been looking for jobs with no avail.

Trying to get into the spas. Trying to play more music. Trying to design my own crochet patters and sell some creations online. I have ideas, but they get thwarted by the "no money" aspect of NYC life. My anxiety takes precedent and I have stupid ideas like giving up and running home with my tail between my legs to live with Mom in Florida.

I decided against that. I jumped in the deep end and I better start swimming.

I've been spending lots of time watching movies and crocheting - Eminem's new album "Recovery" is pretty amazing.

Finished Lost and started The Tudors.

Wanna begin Sex and the City from the beginning.

I need a new attitude.

Today was July 4th....the 234th birthday of America and the first anniversary of when I lost Jonathan forever.

He wrote me. Told me he wonders about me. That he's alright. That he's proud of me for what its worth.

I spent the evening at a random family BBQ in Greenpoint and had a lovely time. Watched the fireworks over the Manhattan Skyline from a rooftop holding a five-year old that was the next best thing to Aiden that I could find.

I'm completely broke and completely lost, but completely happy.

I just have to remember that all the bullshit is 100% worth those tiny NYC moments that you never forget.