I'm the Fairy Godmother of Hooking Up...

"Carrie, you're a bad influence on me."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, it's fabulous!"

"Well, then I'm not making you into anything you didn't already want."

"I have so much fun with you. I love your friends."

"I love them too. Now go make out with Dru."

Done. And done.

Hooking up two very sweet people is a very difficult task. Because they don't view the world as phermonally as the rest of us. Devon and I practically had to order them to hang out alone so they could make out. They wanted to, they just didn't know how to go about it.

So we did what we could. Cute kids, those two.

As for me?

"Here we find ourselves again."

"Yup."

"That's weird."

"Weirder things have happened."

"I know."

I realize that I use that phrase "weirder things have happened" extremely frequently. It's New York's effect on me. Nothing I do is weird because there is far freakier shit going on. And so I end up where I end up.

And yet, I'm happy. No Shame Spiral. Maybe that's the freakiest part of all.

My favorite part on a guys body is in between their shoulder blades. I settle in there and sleep. I wake up and the world is too bright and my head is killing me. I kiss his cheek and make my way home, fighting desperately to stay awake on the train so I don't wind up in the Bronx. I wind up back home and curl up into the fetal position with my teddy bear, the only unconditional love in my life right now, and sleep like the dead.

And now, with $10 to my name, I have to go to a birthday party at a club. I can't get into too much trouble because I don't have the money to. Poverty as a means of morality.

And yet, I've never met a sin I didn't like.

So we'll see.