brandoning_ brandoning_

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brandoning_  Living in NYC. Exploring my vanity through instagram.

Uncertain times. Had to do a face check: Still there ✔️👹

My latest (seizure inducing) illustration gig for a truly kickass band @blacktopdaisy (which happens to be filled with some of my favorite people on the planet). Show them a little love on their ig page (if your fingers don't mind 👈) and if you're in NYC, check them out at #rockwoodmusichall on 3/31. Their music makes me wag my finger. every. single. time.

Whenever people give me shit about me not wanting to leave my bedroom I will defer to this pic as my sole defense. #HomeSweetHomo🌈

That wistfully confident look in my eyes brought to you by the fact that I didn't slip and fall (yet) today in the ridiculous slush-fest masquerading as NYC. ❄️ ☀️

My "Stop opening the door, I'm freezing" Scowl. Not to be confused with my "Can we get tacos?" or "Fuck Trump" scowls. 🤔

Caption: "Flowers to counter against the freeze. And writing on the wall." 🥀

Long week. Suspended train service. The cure? My cab driver singing to himself all the way home. Wedding details to follow. 💍

Face? Still there. ✔️

My personal bandaid for the state of the world: finally getting back with my boyfriend (the roof). A personal bandaid for the state of my face: a dirty lens on an incredibly sunny day followed by approximately 78 filters to make up for the fact that I wear track jackets but have yet to engage in any activity that remotely resembles running. 🏃

I've come to find that there are certain items which, as a cuspy-adult, I feel the need to own even though I only use them once or twice a year. During these periods of non-use, the item inevitably disappears -- swallowed up in some random Grey Gardens-esque corner of a closet in my apartment. In complete surrender, I often just end up repurchasing the plug adapters, glue guns or levels. Last year though, I had a *very mild* epiphany regarding this problem, and decided to break the vicious cycle: The 'random shit' box was born, and was placed on a high (yet entirely visible) shelf in my bedroom, making sure that the next time I needed something, I'd obviously remember my proactive designation of this box. Obviously?! ....Riiiiight. Cut to today, and this idiot, searching for a glue gun everywhere other than in the "Random Shit" box he'd made only a year prior. Contained in that box, the replacement glue gun he'd been forced to re-purchase last time, due to Random Closet Loss. *RCL is real, people...just ask my early 20s...(womp womp). * This? This is also a significant manifestation of #Brandoning . (But PS- My box theory technically worked after 45 minutes, so in a way -- this whole story has just been a r̶u̶n̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶s̶e̶n̶t̶e̶n̶c̶e̶ humble-brag from the "barely new and questionably improved" Brandon barely standing before you, glue gun finally in-hand).

Believe the hype, Hamilton is pretty f*cking wonderful. Also worth noting, I'm momentarily questioning if #brandoning was in fact, merely a 32 year long phase ...because in a single February day, it was 58°, I won front row tickets to an impossibly sold out show and got to sit next to the perfection that is @joy_sandell all night. Not to mention, I'm almost home and haven't fallen down any stairs in public and my cab driver has been the perfect amount of chatty. It was a good day, nothing quite like a great work of art to lift your spirits. 🎭

Just doing my part to make sure that there's not a colonial woman on the wing. ✈️ Bridesmaids references can still be a thing, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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