Now that Jordyn's got a run she ain't ever gonna be the same....

I just spent 15 minutes belting out "Jordyn's got a run" to the tune of Janie's got a gun by Aerosmith, all about the run in my tights that has been growing all day....I honestly find myself so hilarious it's not even funny.

Run awayyyy, Run awayyy from the pain yeah. yeah. yeah

So this morning I woke up in my usual blur of sunshine and smiles. I opened my windows and the birds came tweeting in, perfectly curling my ribboned hair with their short beaks, you know, the usual bullshit. Or not. In all actuality, what really happened is I woke up to a shooting pain all around my nether-est  region (my foot, pervs). I threw off my covers to see what the heck was happening and was met with a foot lightly coated in blood. Super cool. Turns out last night I somehow managed to cut the arch of my foot whilst out, didn't notice and then spent the entire night bleeding out.

It was really cool.

It also made today totally awesome. 

Walking on a cut foot is totally tubular bro.

I call this selfie, which I took to make sure my friends all knew how much was hating my life of course, Look at the pain radiating from my eyes. Someone cut my foot off. Please I beg you. I weep. 

To make it somewhat more bearable, New York City is killing the weather game at the moment. 

Seriously, too beautiful. This two day period between blistering snow filled winds that whip at my face and leave me breathless and the sweltering sweat box that cooks my kidneys as I walk around, is honestly amazing. New York City, we got the bagels, the good public transport and the bar's that go all night buuuut Los Angeles may have us beat on the weather game. 

I'm literally racking my brain for anything that has been happening but honestly if it isn't work, my bed, or a lame dive bar with some lame homies I haven't been doing it....I'm honestly too cool and exciting some times.

Oh I did watch some super weird movie....it was literally 2 hours and had zero words. It was all images and clips of different people, places and things and after like 15 minutes I hated the human race. This was probably my favourite clip mainly because I was so fucking confused....

 I watched it with my roommate, Tommy and temporary roommate, Damien and if you read my post about watching Dallas Buyers Club, you would know that it of course ended with my being crushed by boys who are way too good at making themselves at home. Involuntary snug fest 2014.

Ok, but honestly I can feel my pulse in my cut foot.

I'm not about that life.

I'm going to go and cry now.

Reflection.

It's a rainy Sunday and I spent the entire day sleeping, brunching and now snuggling with an adorable puppy I stole from my friend and some lame Mac Nerd.

Not a Mac Nerd.

I really like the rain. As I typed that the apartment literally just lit up and I had a very literal flashback to my Mum always making us turn off the computer when there was lightening....is that a real thing? Am I about to be zapped to smithereens? Oh well.

Back to my original statement, I really like the rain. It makes me feel cosy, I even wrote about it a few years ago on my old blog "Let me tell you Astoria" (from when I lived in Astoria...I'm so quirky and intelligent, keep calm). That site has since been shut down but I remembered that post and suddenly had this overwhelming desire to read them all. So I just spent the last 45 minutes scouring the internet for my archives and alas I found them and imported them into another one of my old blogs so I could read them...

It's honestly the most bizzare feeling. It's all so la-di-da, you can barely tell I was imploding.

It was only a few years ago now that I wrote those blogs, yet I feel like I don't even know that person. My first year alone in the city was both the best and worst time of my life all wrapped into one. I was emotionally and mentally exhausted, all the time. I was overstimulated and and probably a little overmedicated, I was so young, yet trying to fill the shoes of someone much older.

I lasted about two months in college before the darkside of the city took it's toll and I was forced to take a semester (or two...) off. I got involved with some of the best and some of the worst people I had ever known, some of whom seem like dreams as opposed to reality. I was riddled with anxiety attacks, afraid to go home at night and would instead choose to spend my nights either intoxicated and crying or wandering around until the business men appeared for work the next day.

People I met and became friends with got to know this weird altered version of myself and associated that to everything I was, forcing me to live this weird blurred existence and constantly feeling like a stranger. I struggled a lot. 

I liked to think I faked it well but looking back I probably didn't do as well as I hoped. The memory of sitting on a bench in midtown at 4am, crying to my friend Danilo because I was so emotionally exhausted and demanding him to hang up the phone is way to clear a memory for that first part to be true.

It's like when you tell a lie and you end up tangled in this web that you can't seem to unravel your way out of, but my whole personality around most people was a lie. The facts I was giving were true (although my hair was fake....I literally had a fake wig sewed/glued to my head....if that isn't a giant red flag I don't know what is) I never changed my name (half true...I did have a fake name for a while with one certain group of people but that's because I didn't want them to be able to find me...always a good sign...) or pretended I was royalty, but my personality was so foreign to me. I was so weak and fragile, I would let peoples words change who I was or how I acted, I befriended bad people, and I lost myself.

Little baby Jordyn....and little baby Jordyn's fake hair.

It's not that I had everything to hide, it's just that I was very confused, all the time. I didn't know what I wanted or where I was going, or who I was. I remember one morning leaving my friends apartment and spending about 15 minutes throwing up into the bushes (luckily nobody saw me...I don't think). I wasn't sick, I wasn't hungover, I wasn't anything. It's like my mind and body was just so tired and confused it didn't know what to do so it imploded on itself.

I'm going to stop rewording the same sentence over and over again now and simply end this here. I have since removed a lot of people from my life, changed my environment and what I was doing. I'm slightly less confused about life. I have re-prioritized a lot of things, and most importantly I'm happier.

Oh and it would totally make a killer memoir.

So there is always a bright side.