MY PEOPLE, my beautiful people: Thank you with all of the gratitude and humility in my soul for your outpouring of empathy and generosity. It is not only life-saving but life-affirming. This little community is my favorite thing in the world. Thank you so much, thank you for reading me, thank you for making me feel I am not so obsolete, and thank you especially for your utterly kind support. I love you.
I'm pained to read this, Cintra. There I was, enjoying daydreams of dropping in to visit you at the bar. You know as I know that the loss of hope is our real enemy. Shit will happen and keep happening. All I can think is that it's a good thing you're not the CEO of a healthcare conglomerate. There's a fate worse than the one that has screwed you. You could be dead w bullets in your back and people everywhere would be saying that's a good fucking thing. Instead you are, and you will remain, a treasure.
Cintra! What the ever-lovin’ fuck! You are one of our great writers and brains and exceptional poets! This rando Brooklyn downturn is just absurd. You deserve the best.
Jon and I would like to buy one of your paintings, as our well-deserved Christmas gift to each other. Michelle Shocked has no idea how lucky she was to meet you.
I was crushed when I saw the heading of this post. And I do think the loss must be grieved. But actually, I really believe 3 months was all it was supposed to be. Just a solid getting-back-in-touch-with-your-whole-self gift. I love what it revealed to you! The things you learned about yourself are priceless. PRICELESS! And now, clearly, obviously, you are meant to move on. If God/dess says 3 months, then that’s what it was supposed to be: 3 months. Take no thought of tomorrow’s bread. Let divine love show you the way. Listen to that still small voice. I am resistant to your coming back to CA, because I feel like the move was meant to get you to NYC. But I know nothing. Maybe you and your boyfriend are going strong and he’s here in CA and y’all miss each other. It IS fun and magical, the Michelle Shocked thing. So great. But I’m not surprised. You are wonderful and one of a kind. I’m with you in spirit.
You ARE the best writer, and I’m a writer, too, so I know whereof I speak. I can confidently say you’re the only journalist whose work didn’t make me ragey upon reading because the outlets who hired you were lucky to have you. Your prose sings with the right mix of sarcasm and intelligence. Please keep on keeping on we shall overcome!!
You ARE a Stradivarius, and the Stradivarius always gets the last laugh. While I mourn the fact that there is not currently an architectural embodiment of you—Cintra’s World is what they should have named the bar—your continued literary presence builds a flying buttress of support to thinking people everywhere. Strength to your arm, Sister!
NOOOOO! FHUCKHKHKHK. Don't go back to Toxicali, find yourself a new bartending gig and stay right where you belong! I will put in a word for you with Celeste at Radegast Hall, corner of Berry & N. 3rd in Williamsburg. (Honestly have no idea whether she's still working there, but she knows cool when she sees it.)
That bites, Cintra! If I owned a bar, wine or otherwise, I’d sure want you making these cool things happen there. Hopefully the deck has been cleared for something even more amazing just down the road
I thought this might happen because you are just too wonderful and talented for that job.(Not dissing the job, just saying.) It came along when you needed it, so cool, and you had a great attitude and made the most of it. Now return to California and write your no holds barred Memoir. With love, former New York book editor.
Oh, and Michelle Shocked is one of my favorites. I must have listened to Short Sharp Shocked 500 times, although I curse her principles that keep it off Spotify now.
We had to bail, too. It’s the fucking rent, of course. No one except trust fund girls and brojobs can afford that shit.
So now, NYC returns to form: not a place where art is made, but where art is sold. Not a home, but an investment portfolio. And it’s down one more fabulous writer (you), one lifelong novelist (me), and one jazz drummer (my boo).
Is this progress?
My .02, which you did not ask for: stay. Get another bar gig. Use that rapier wit and impressive mental cognition in a venue that is, perhaps, more deserving of you.
This breaks my freakin' heart, there, Cintra. Damn!, I've been following you since the Salon days, and proudly have a copy of "A Massive Swelling" on my bookshelf. Your writing never fails to disappoint, except today, for obvious reason not related to talent, baby. I will up my ridiculously miniscule monthly contribution to you. Big love from a big fan, Chris
MY PEOPLE, my beautiful people: Thank you with all of the gratitude and humility in my soul for your outpouring of empathy and generosity. It is not only life-saving but life-affirming. This little community is my favorite thing in the world. Thank you so much, thank you for reading me, thank you for making me feel I am not so obsolete, and thank you especially for your utterly kind support. I love you.
Winter Steele would make an awesome dominatrix!! 😉
I love your Substack so much!
I'm pained to read this, Cintra. There I was, enjoying daydreams of dropping in to visit you at the bar. You know as I know that the loss of hope is our real enemy. Shit will happen and keep happening. All I can think is that it's a good thing you're not the CEO of a healthcare conglomerate. There's a fate worse than the one that has screwed you. You could be dead w bullets in your back and people everywhere would be saying that's a good fucking thing. Instead you are, and you will remain, a treasure.
👏👏
Cintra! What the ever-lovin’ fuck! You are one of our great writers and brains and exceptional poets! This rando Brooklyn downturn is just absurd. You deserve the best.
Jon and I would like to buy one of your paintings, as our well-deserved Christmas gift to each other. Michelle Shocked has no idea how lucky she was to meet you.
I was crushed when I saw the heading of this post. And I do think the loss must be grieved. But actually, I really believe 3 months was all it was supposed to be. Just a solid getting-back-in-touch-with-your-whole-self gift. I love what it revealed to you! The things you learned about yourself are priceless. PRICELESS! And now, clearly, obviously, you are meant to move on. If God/dess says 3 months, then that’s what it was supposed to be: 3 months. Take no thought of tomorrow’s bread. Let divine love show you the way. Listen to that still small voice. I am resistant to your coming back to CA, because I feel like the move was meant to get you to NYC. But I know nothing. Maybe you and your boyfriend are going strong and he’s here in CA and y’all miss each other. It IS fun and magical, the Michelle Shocked thing. So great. But I’m not surprised. You are wonderful and one of a kind. I’m with you in spirit.
You ARE the best writer, and I’m a writer, too, so I know whereof I speak. I can confidently say you’re the only journalist whose work didn’t make me ragey upon reading because the outlets who hired you were lucky to have you. Your prose sings with the right mix of sarcasm and intelligence. Please keep on keeping on we shall overcome!!
You ARE a Stradivarius, and the Stradivarius always gets the last laugh. While I mourn the fact that there is not currently an architectural embodiment of you—Cintra’s World is what they should have named the bar—your continued literary presence builds a flying buttress of support to thinking people everywhere. Strength to your arm, Sister!
NOOOOO! FHUCKHKHKHK. Don't go back to Toxicali, find yourself a new bartending gig and stay right where you belong! I will put in a word for you with Celeste at Radegast Hall, corner of Berry & N. 3rd in Williamsburg. (Honestly have no idea whether she's still working there, but she knows cool when she sees it.)
That bites, Cintra! If I owned a bar, wine or otherwise, I’d sure want you making these cool things happen there. Hopefully the deck has been cleared for something even more amazing just down the road
I thought this might happen because you are just too wonderful and talented for that job.(Not dissing the job, just saying.) It came along when you needed it, so cool, and you had a great attitude and made the most of it. Now return to California and write your no holds barred Memoir. With love, former New York book editor.
REJECTION is just YOU being sent in a DIFFRENT DIRECTION for The RITE CONNECTION.
𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐔𝐏, 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐭. 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐣𝐨𝐛𝐬, 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲, 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐭𝐡𝐨. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐔 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐘𝐨 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩. 𝐔𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐭𝐡𝐨. 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡... 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐝𝐚𝐭 𝐙𝐄𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐔 𝐁 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐈𝐠𝐡𝐭.
𝑆𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝑂𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝐶𝐴𝑆𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑃.
Don’t leave New York! I need to play C.H.O.P.S. And win.
New York is a harsh mistress. Sending some green to keep the coal stove in your railroad flat burning.
Oh, and Michelle Shocked is one of my favorites. I must have listened to Short Sharp Shocked 500 times, although I curse her principles that keep it off Spotify now.
We had to bail, too. It’s the fucking rent, of course. No one except trust fund girls and brojobs can afford that shit.
So now, NYC returns to form: not a place where art is made, but where art is sold. Not a home, but an investment portfolio. And it’s down one more fabulous writer (you), one lifelong novelist (me), and one jazz drummer (my boo).
Is this progress?
My .02, which you did not ask for: stay. Get another bar gig. Use that rapier wit and impressive mental cognition in a venue that is, perhaps, more deserving of you.
Shutting up now.
Stay here. Just until Spring. Or Summer. Give coincidence and happenstance a moment to percolate. Looking forward to seeing you.
"It’s a pity when what you do best is no longer what people want of you." Truth.
Best of Luck Cintra. 💙
"California's the place you outta be"
So they loaded up the truck
And they moved to Beverly.
This breaks my freakin' heart, there, Cintra. Damn!, I've been following you since the Salon days, and proudly have a copy of "A Massive Swelling" on my bookshelf. Your writing never fails to disappoint, except today, for obvious reason not related to talent, baby. I will up my ridiculously miniscule monthly contribution to you. Big love from a big fan, Chris