I recently had a chat with a 21 year old girl from the country of Georgia, for her age I find her very smart and level headed. As all girls of her age and of this current time we are in, she has the social media bug. She was explaining  to me that she’s not very  interested getting very drunk and crazed as her girlfriends do when they go out. She likes to stay level headed and doesn't love hangovers, which I replied no one does darling. 

She continued to tell me that in her country they have a music festival much like our COACHELLA there. So since she’s never really been drunk and done crazy drugs, she decided that she would at this festival. She snuck in a  vodka in a bottle of nail polish remover, UM really, what kind of security do they have over there. She continued to explain what ensued after  she had 16 shots, which became  a classic turn of events. Laughing, dancing, crying, getting lost and not knowing how she got home.The Rite of passage everyone goes through at some point of there life.

The best part of the story were the pics of her of how cute she looked before she went to the music festival and what she looked like afterwards. Well the long and the short of it, a muddy messy disheveled girl wearing a completely different outfit than she did when she left. 

Of course I couldn’t stop laughing, so she looked at me and asked if I have ever had a night like that. Well, um yes, I have.

Like her, I always needed to be in control of my surroundings, no matter how fucked up I would get, I always made sure that I was conscious enough to know when to call it, or hangout long enough to be able to head out on my own. Which meant that I never got to fully let myself go and enjoy the high.

Like her, I decided that I wanted to have one of those drunken blind moments to put in the books and I must say that I accomplished my goal.

I was an artist assistant way back on the 90’s, well I was more than a assistant, I was more of a muse, in the fact that I would inspire him to look deep into his soul and paint without any inhibitions. Anyhow getting to the point. The Artist that I was assisting was having his first opening and I was to be the host of the event,  So I decided that I would dress like a Modern Geisha, I wore this wooden 5in. shoes with a Japanese crimped skirt and a beautiful tight blouse to match with the skirt. 

My one rule that I have when I host a party or in this case an opening I do not drink until midnight. Keeps me focused on the event and able to chat with perspective buyers etc… 

The night was going fantastically, people were buying and the party was in my opinion off the fucking hook, so I started having drinks a bit early because at that point the party was well on it’s own.

The opening ended  on a high note so about 12 of us went out after to have dinner and celebrate our success and of course I really don’t remember much about dinner, only that afterwards everyone left me alone and the last thing I remember was my friend saying for me take a cab and not walk home. Yeah that never happened.

As I stood there in front of  Chelsea Hotel and watched everyone leave I decided  that I would walk home across my favorite street in Chelsea. Of course it was the biggest mistake and thus began the night Of A Thousand falls.

I was going to stay at a friends apt on 24th street between 8th and 9th ave. which is’t really that far from the Chelsea Hotel which is on 23rd street between 7th and 8th ave. So I watched the last of my friends leave, with my eyes crossed and my shoes feeling like bricks, which were actually wooden blocks on my feet. I was on my way.

I decided that I wanted to walk across 22nd street because It’s one of my favorite streets in Chelsea, cute, full of trees, quite, lovely Brownstones and it was a beautiful street to say the least. Well everything was going just fine until I turned on 22nd, I had my first fall into what I think were a bunch of bushes. not sure how I got up from that but I did. 

Then there was the crash into a light pole, a flower bed around the trees, onto  the stairs leading to someone’s house, I think I crashed into a parked car, ended up in someone’s courtyard, luckily no one saw me when that happened and all of  this happened between 8th and 9th ave.

Then I turned right to head to 24th street and somehow I couldn’t manage being on my shoes any longer and I crashed into a young tree and just slithered down and landed in the flower bed and just sat there looking up into the bright moonlit sky. Then out of nowhere this dark figure was standing above me and I heard HRH what are you doing down there! I looked up there he stood complete dark shadow with a golden aura around him like an angel, what can I say , the drugs were good and he did look like an angel.

I said that I was going to my friends apt on 24th street, he helped me up and said he would take there. See he was an angel.

I woke up the next morning of course barely remembering the night before, I did however have a few bruises with a good amount aces and pains. And when I saw the state of my shoes, I can fully understand why my body felt the way it did, there were entirely barely no straps on my shoes to keep them on my feet, thus the reason for  the night of a thousand falls.

HRH

The Price Of Age

I was never considered a great beauty, especially when I was a child. Being of mix breed didn’t go well for me as it did for other members of my family, I was very awkward growing up like a puppy with big ears and long limbs with floppy hands and feet.  

Then summer came and I went from a hideous little half breed native Indian girl to a tall long legged amazon in a blink of an eye, I still wasn’t a beauty to behold but I had the body and legs that the boys acknowledged and they came and in full force, almost like they could smell it.

My Parents were so confused as to what was happening, and honestly I was just as flabbergasted as they were.  And that was the beginning of a crazy journey that literally lasted till I was in my fifties.

As I said I was never considered a beauty by any standards, no one ever said I was pretty of beautiful, but I did get things like “ you look great” or ‘you look sexy’ and as one friend said to me in one drunken night, you always had a great style. 

As time went on I started to acquire lovers, boyfriends or became a paramour, I was a paramour more often than not. I had something that enticed men, my witty banter, my gift of cooking and the fact that I could make any man feel like a king and was able to provide multiple ways of pleasure, in short I had  many skills.  

But as hard as I tried I never was able secure a partner that could fully become a partner. My ways, no matter how chill I was or open to spontaneity, loving, giving wasn’t enough. 

Then time finally caught up to me and the ravages of years of living the VIDA LOCA combined with many days, weeks, months of sadness and heartbreaks it took all I had left of that light I had and that inner beauty that I had possessed was gone and it finally went dim.

Now I’ve become a ghost walking on the streets of Manhattan, no one chats with you any longer. Sitting at bars men ignore you. If you’re having dinner alone they’ll ask if they can have your chair without even asking if you’re waiting for anyone. It’s actually laughable sometimes, because I sit and contemplate this point in my life, I can only think of how they may feel when that times comes for them. Probably not so great. Because even though I’m at this stage of my life and have come to terms with it. I’m loving my life more than ever.

I obviously could do and go anywhere I pleased. Clean or not clean my apt, wear clothes or not and I could stream endless amounts of shows on the tele but It’s just different now, calmer, settled I suppose, for lack of a better way to explain it. 

And as George Bernard Shaw said “YOUTH IS WASTED ON THE YOUNG”. 

HRH

 Where do I belong,

As a child I seemed to be ahead of the times, my thoughts of who I was was a very strong in my body and because of that it caused loads of problems for my family and me, problems that I couldn’t fix because I was a child.

At 15 I had my palm read and was told that I chose my parents because I wanted to come into this world and not have a relationship w/ them, and it seemed that I didn’t.  

I suppose I chose them because I knew that they wouldn’t have been able to understand who I was and in turn my father was disgusted w/ me and my mother was always sad when she looked at me always uttering the words “what did we do wrong” and “what will people think of my son thinking that he’s a girl”, 

It was years of separation, crying, yelling there were never smiles around me except for a very few moments that I was able to feel like I had a family, but that never really lasted too long, 

So they years would go by and though I had some friends some lovers , they all in turn never understood the boy in a dress, so I ended  up alone, doing things alone and trying to find my way in the world alone.

At 21 I started taking myself out to really expensive dinners, I’d order the full course and slowly sit there and eat silently while the room would nonchalantly glance at me from time to time with these perplexed looks, I’m sure wondering what this child was doing here alone. 

So began the journey of spending many moments of self reflection, laying on my bed and just staring at the ceiling in deep contemplation, then I go back to that day of my palm reading and ask myself “why did I decide to reincarnate at the time that I did”, there must have been a reason for it, 

Did I miss calculate my entrance into  the world, too early too late, that’s a question that will probably never be able to be answered at least not in this life time.

So the never ending question still remains, WHERE DO I BELONG.

HRH