>Good Karma, and other New York City musings
>When you’ve been away, New York City is definitely a breath of fresh air.
Not literally, for I cursed the sewers and smog on my run this morning as I crossed town from Riverside Drive to Central Park. Figuratively though, New York is the city of endless opportunity–endless activity and happenings. I’m a go-go-go type of person, and the city allows me just that. And all that happens! The stories I muster up, the daily interactions I make– I wish I could develop a mechanism where my brain could just transcribe what I’m thinking to paper, spell check and everything.
In only a few days, I’ve had dinner with my brother and girlfriend in Brooklyn, had drinks with an old friend from college on the Upper West Side, and enjoyed fresh croissants and coffee with my best friend at the famous Hungarian Pastry Shop in Morningside Heights. I went for my first run in New York City (didn’t like it), drunkingly stumbled uptown at 3am as I tried to figure out subway construction and travel changes while listening to Katy Perry AND Miles Davis on my ipod, and saw the Fleet Foxes at the United Palace.
I went to Nicole’s graduation ceremony from Columbia, went out to eat with a cousin she’s never met before and her aunt who is a judge and just HAPPENS to be named Judy, and ate plain pasta and granola for dinner while chatting about boys (what else) with our friend Melissa. We’ve gone for walks, layed in the park and read, and succumed to romantic comedies on netflix before bed. Both of us are banking on good karma, so we took a walk down to 90th and CP W to return a debit card we found to the owner’s friend Joel’s bellman; we taped it up in a couple pieces of lined paper and hand delivered it in cute dresses with the message “Joel’s expecting this,” which probably made the whole thing seem a bit odd.
Like I said, really banking on the good karma.
I’m losing myself in a novel, applying to countless writing, blogging, and tutoring jobs, and am stalking a restaurant on Long Island that apparently is in desparate need for help but is bad at the whole “returning calls” thing. Big Tree is playing Katy Perry covers in Brooklyn so I’ve also been learning pretty profound lyrics, such as do you ever feel like a plastic bag drifting through the wind? and Last Friday Night, we took too many shots, think we kissed but I forgot, Last Friday Night. I’m intrigued at how quickly neighborhoods change one avenue over (insert: Broadway and Amsterdam), am cursing the constant, steady rainfall, and am slightly entertained that Dominique Strauss-Kahn’s daughter lives in Nic’s building and there’s a constant news team of about 50 people outside waiting for her to return home. (CBS has asked me how I feel about him moving in with his daughter and having a rapist live in the building; I responsed that the chance of Dominique Strass-Kahn moving into Columbia housing with his child was a bit absurd.
I’m biting the bullet, eager to play more shows, go for more runs, and see more of the world (when does this happen?) I want to write more, study more, and learn more. I just declined my acceptance into the Peace Corps, so my Africa send-off in October is only a faint memory. I’m trying to stay as busy as possible, but a feeling of instability, dependance, and the unknown knocks at my knees. Still! I have money in the bank, an amazing and supportive family, incredible friends, a sick band, and strong limbs.
I am beyond lucky.