yesterday, i bought a pair of shoes. used. from a fairly realized thrift shop in (gasp!) williamsburg. amazing selection, helpful staff, reasonable prices. black leather uppers by duffer of st. george. definitely a score.

i was looking for a coat. something brown, preferably corduroy. certainly part of my recent freak-out is the knowledge that i have a brown corduroy car coat. it, along with all the rest of my winter-esque clothes, are in storage, in chicago. which makes my lack of a job that allows me financially to escape new york for the weekend and liberate the rest of my belongings, exceptionally frustrating and PRESENT. try being without your stuff for a couple of months and see how crazy it starts to make you. cds, books, dvds, videos, paintings, coats, sweaters, bedding, housewares. all in boxes, 1000 miles away.

of course, it is only stuff. but it is familiar stuff. stuff that's mine. stuff that helps me feel connected, centered, grounded. back in my halcyon days, whenever i felt some sort of low-grade depression, well, i just shopped my way out of it. you know, retail therapy. not so much these days. which has forced me to be creative with my time, resources and energy. something of a challenge that i have accepted willingly and gratefully. but being conscious about every penny that one spends to feed oneself gets old, right quick.

i'm not looking to live the high life. i did it. for awhile, i even lost myself in it. i'm just looking to live a life with purpose and dignity. i know, i know. would i like some wine with that cheese? but, dammit, i'm convinced there is a middle ground out there, someplace comfortable between poverty and luxury. ugh, could this sound any more trite?

enough. i warned you this might ramble or devolve into nonsense.

-finn