The caliber of the farewell party

I have moved almost 35 times since i was a kid. and i think 25 are me after 2006. i love “trying on” a way to live. ive lived in the dingiest places by choice. once my friends helped me move and then they like waited till i got in, looked at each other and were like:

does she know she might die?

i dont know why i am fascinated with poverty. all my fav heros- r poor. they r like these wierd ppl from the “bronx”. when i went to nyc the last time, i 100% rented the worst air bnb in the bronx. and ppl make it look like these places are dangerous. and im always like- “this is a let down”.

but alot of my friends have had to deal with this. especially guys. coz guys can lift. ive made PARTNERS at INVESTMENT FIRMS climb 3 sets of stairs coz NO ELEVATOR. and these dudes r like not made for this shit. these r soft ppl. im always like “ive legit moved solo lifting this my whole life”.

so when i leave a place where dudes like me that much and their wives r in love with me- and they r always like SHUT UP AND HELP HER MOVE. one of my moves a very nice pakistani desi friend, whom i loved and we have seen dark days with her health. ive memories of talking in like some random food court, in front of sobeys in the path. i like to LIVE a city.

anyway, her husband had been on a bachelors thing and he was WASTED. he had a lit hangover the next day. and this lady does not pick shit up. ive had to be the “man around the house”. i would go over and fix things. she needed a…