Katherine Moved to New York

I came home with a half-written essay in my head, and Spotify said, “Hey, I know you listened to that one Grizzly Bear song five days ago, and you’re trying to listen to Brothers, but you’d clearly much rather listen to ‘On A Neck On A Spit’,” and Spotify was correct, because this song was exactly how I felt. I haven’t heard this song in years, even though I listened to it thousands of time in college. And what’s the point of having a blog if I’m never going to inaugurate it with this video?

I’ve had to explain the premise of my life to a few people, beyond the I-live-in-the-land-of-pizza-and-bagels-and-the-American-Dream, and I should have just said, “Here, take this verse. You’d be confused with my explanation anyway.”

Much later this evening I slid my rent checks under the door, and my roommate had me come into his room to watch Mama’s Family on YouTube, and I thought, “I hope I never leave.” (And also, “Wow, that looks like my Great Aunt’s house. And that is her hair.”)