2011 didn’t seem so exciting or major to me while it was happening, but now, in retrospect, it really was.  I spent the year living in New York City with my wonderful husband, Ryan, and Chicken the Hairless Wonder Cat, working in a bar in Chelsea, not really paying attention to my old hobbies – I barely picked up my SLR all year, never updated this site, and didn’t devote as much time as I used to Haute Macabre.  Another year past where I still can’t take a self-portrait that isn’t looking into the mirror with my phone – how the hell do you girls do it?!

Last January, Ryan and I went to New Orleans for the first time.  We were instantly magically-love-at-first-sight smitten with the city. It felt like home, in a way that New York never has for me.  After the first trip, we returned twice more.  We made new friends, found new bars and restaurants that we love, explored the city, rode the streetcar up and down St. Charles Ave, got absolutely drenched in a storm while we were running across the French Quarter, and had more fun than I could really describe (except for the one night we discovered my allergy meds didn’t mix well with gin!).

One night in November, Ryan got home from work at about 5:30 in the morning, after an incredibly long night behind his bar, woke me up, and said “Let’s just move”.  I blearily said sure, fell back asleep, and started apartment hunting the next morning.  We move into our new home in our new city in just FIFTEEN DAYS!!

New Orleans :: Los Angeles :: Mexico :: Atlantic City

For our second anniversary, Ryan & I spent a very rainy week in Mexico, proving my theory that at any time, anywhere in the world, episodes of Law & Order SVU are going to be airing on TV in whatever language you speak.  I went to Los Angeles in September and found old treasures, useless junk, and weird shit in my storage unit.  I saw the Tim Burton exhibit that I missed out on in New York with Courtney and had color coordinated breakfast with Zo.  Ryan & I spent a night in Atlantic City, played the slots (he actually won!) and walked the closed for the season boardwalk.

The Empire State continued to be my favorite building in NYC, entirely because of the novel Veronica.  We survived Snowmaggedon, Snowpocalypse, and Thunder Snow.  Chicken continued to be adorable.  We went to the opera and left early to go drink beers.

Ryan & I got matching Harry Potter tattoos, and later I got a bunch of hyacinths.  I saw Patti Smith preform and stood so close I had to lean back when she’d reach her arm out.  I ate meat.  I ate A LOT of meat, and it was awesome.  I became more conscious of what my food is and where it came from, diet, and exercise, and continuously ignore my higher self when she said to stop eating crap.  I saw PJ Harvey play a fairly lackluster performance, but her sub-par is most performers’ superb.  I saw Bon Iver, and it was the most emotionally moving performance I’ve ever seen.  I had adventures with my husband all over town and quiet nights at home and loved both kinds.

I started wearing colors other than black, and started compulsively buying dresses from ModCloth.  My hair got so long it goes down the back of my pants and I stopped dyeing it black, but still don’t have any decent photos of it.  I didn’t smoke a single cigarette – not even a single drag – all year, and I don’t miss it one bit.  I turned thirty, and was glad to be done with my twenties.

Had many a cocktail hour in many a bar, some that Bukoswki would approve, some a little swankier.  I caught quiet moments on Sunday mornings while walking to work on early shifts.  I hung out with Radeo and my husband is convinced she is my long-lost little sister.  I finally got to use my fancy skull dishes on Thanksgiving.  I put Chicken in her Chicken hat, and she hated me for it.  Chloe would come out and play whenever she was in town.  I read a lot, as you already know.  I watched a lot of TV, and I’m not ashamed of it.  We survived the Hurricane-That-Never-Really-Happened-But-We-All-Freaked-Out.

I fell in love with Instax cameras.  I spent time with friends I grew up with in New York, friends I spent my years with in California, and friends I’ve made since moving back.  I drank Pimm’s Cups on a rooftop pool in Midtown, had Budweisers to go in The Garden District, glasses of Gruner in posh NYC restaurants, and pre-last shift drinks at silly bars in Meat Packing.  I spent time with my family, but not enough, especially now that I’m moving away again.

I am very excited about 2012.  So many things are happening already, and life is about to change in a giant way.  In just two weeks, I’ll be living in with someone I love in a place that inspires us both.  My only resolutions for the year is to build our life there and keep being happy.
What are you looking forward to the most this year?

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The ladies behind Haute Macabre, drunk and full of pie in front of Jones Cafe, a few weeks back in Los Angeles.

YOU’RE IN THE STREET!!

Matching, and impressed with our feet.

photos by Oh Chloe, and better descriptions on Haute Macabre

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The Atomic Cafe trailer Finally made a trip to the Fairfax Flea Market this past weekend, with specific instructions to “not come home with any furniture or useless antiques”.  My house in Santa Barbara was packed with both of those things.  I would wander into thrift shops and come out with major dents in my wallet and cause my walls to bulge at their seams.

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Friends would get calls asking to borrow their pick up trucks so that I could get a seven foot tall prop coffin home (which once caused me to run out of a bar, yelling over my shoulder “THE COFFIN IS OUT IN THE RAIN!” because I hadn’t yet gotten it through my front door ), or “Do you think this antique school desk will fit in your trunk?”.  Sometimes, I would find my way home without assistance, although dropping a trash bag full of doll parts in the middle of State Street one day did turn a number of heads – no pun intended.

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I behaved myself, and left the big pieces for other buyers, only come home with a few small jewelry items.  I got some earrings, a ring, and a set of rosary beads which burnt my hand when I picked them up.

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Seriously.  The cross on them had been sitting in the sun, or at least, that’s what I told myself.

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[Show as slideshow]

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