The word yarn has a few definitions.  The first is the one that we think of when we’re sewing, knitting or tying something together.  But the other more interesting definition is that a yarn can also be a long story or tale that is entertaining in some way. My friend Eric has capitalized on that part of the word.  He runs a website called Yarn Audio Works, (www.yarnaudioworks.com), and today he interviewed me for a story that he plans to post on the site.  You know, because I’m the one with the crazy ass brain explosion story — plus don’t forget I was dramatically dumped by a psychopath named Fucker.  (I have a really good story I think….) Anyway — he recently asked if he could come over and record me talking about all of this.  His piece will post in a few months, so I’ll be sure to share with you when it does. Maybe it will drive more traffic to my blog — which would make me happy. I like traffic to my blog.

Backing up.  On my way to yoga earlier today, I stopped at the Citibank on Avenue A for some cash and looked across the street and saw this yarn store. I thought to myself, I should really take a photo of this store since I’m going to tell a yarn for Yarn Audio Works later today.  And I live downtown.  So technically what I was going to tell was a Downtown Yarn.  And the store’s address is 45 Avenue A.  And well, I turn 45 this September.  How perfect is this photo for my blog?  So I took this photo and went on my merry way to weirdo hot yoga.

After yoga, I met Eric here in my apartment, and we started recording my story.  Basically, he asked me a lot of questions and I spoke into a microphone and answered them. We also recorded the sounds of cute little retarded Stevie’s purring.  I hope that makes it into the final cut because it was so adorable.

It was an interesting time, and what struck both Eric and myself as we spoke, is that I’m not usually the one in the spotlight. I’m the publicist who puts others into the spotlight.  Being in the spotlight is harder for me — so this was an interesting exercise for sure.

At the end of the session, Eric asked if he could take some photos of iconic symbols from my tale… the cats, the Dyson, a wine glass (before it was broken), etc.  As we took the photos, we also noticed Prince and Apollonia , my doves, sitting out on my balcony.  The sight of them made me feel really sad. I mean, not brought to tears, but sad.  The reason is that last spring, Prince and Apollonia had baby doves on my balcony.  It was fun — and I loved watching the process of them building the nest, laying and watching over the eggs, feeding the babies, and then having them fly, fly away.  It felt appropriate to my brain recovery at the time to watch this entire cycle happen right outside my window.

After the babies flew away, I cleaned up the shit mess, flipped the light that they built the nest in upside down so they couldn’t start the process all over, and moved into my summer and balcony living.  Well.  Prince and Apollonia are BACK this year.  And because they can’t build the nest in the light fixture, they’re just sitting on my railing looking longingly into the apartment with nowhere to go.  It really sucks. I feel awful.  I know they want to spawn more baby doves in my light fixture– but I just don’t need or want all that shit to clean up again this year.  Is that terrible?

Anyway, before he left, Eric started to feel sad about Prince and Apollonia’s turn of fate as well.  He didn’t cry either though….. But we did acknowledge that it sort of sucks to see them out there with no place to lay their eggs.  I really am terrible I guess. But I’m not flipping the light back.

To end on a better, less sad, note, I’m posting a photo of happier bird times from last year.  If you look closely, you can see the butt of a baby dove sticking out from under Apollonia.