wonders never cease
My bottle of contact solution has disappeared. Simply vanished without any explanation. I left a post-it note (the most efficient means of communication available. There’s a reason they’ve made software applications based on them) next to the mirror asking if anyone’s seen it. No luck so far.
I only have three weeks left in this grand city. Three weeks. Can you believe it? Time here goes SO fast. Although I guess I can say that about that last eight months or so of my life – suddenly the days doesn’t possess enough time to work, play, relax and sleep to my content, there’s always one area that suffer—usually two. I’m really starting to feel the crunch of time as august fifth gets closer. I still want to take my camera out to coney island and to Rockefeller playground. I still want to walk mid-town from east to west on a not-too-hot Sunday afternoon. There’s still a ton of shit I want to do. Mostly, I don’t want to leave this city yet. I miss grass and breeze and friends with porches, bbqs and beer, but I love running around, meeting random people from Ireland or Winnebago, making friends and creating enemies of people ill probably never see again. Emily and Kristin told me the other night that I always meet interesting people and make friends (and get free drinks) by meeting people through arguments. Looking back, its true – at least in this city. Everyone has an opinion on something and I like hearing what that is, whether I agree or not.
Im still so enchanted with the notion of being in a new city—actually, of being an outsider somewhere. I think it has to do with moving as a high school freshman. That’s a time in ones life when you’re forming an identity of your own, and I honestly think a lot of who I grew to be came from being the odd-man-out, I grew to make myself on that persona. Make sense?
I don’t feel like ive changed much this summer. If anything, ive realized how much I actually like the person I am have grown to trust my instincts and the choices I make more.
If I do move back here after graduation, I do know that I don’t want to live in Manhattan. I’d loose it eventually. I definitely rely on my weekly breaks to Brooklyn, where the streets aren’t filed with throngs of people and you aren’t begged for your money or your time or your signature literally every ten feet. Even beyond that, I realize how much day retreats out to Long Island, even if it is just to the beach that’s just as crowded as a Manhattan avenue, lift my spirits. I realize that I can never call somewhere without trees on the streets home for a long period of time (good think Brooklyn has trees). Its amazing how invigorating the scent of fresh-cut grass can be.
That all aside, there’s no way the thrill and constant going-ons of the uber-urban scene will grow tired. They might get old for a short period of time, but they’ll never loose their allure. Even today, in the 105-degree-heat-index weather (as I was wearing a long sleeve shirt to cover my sunburned body at work) as I was walking along ninth and tenth avenues (where id never before been) I was thinking of how much im going to miss this when im gone. I walked just north of the well-lit, ad-plastered debacle that is Times Square as I headed from a friend’s apartment on 8th Ave back to the subway after an extended happy hour spent barhopping to this little jazz bar illuminated by red-stained-glass covered lamps hanging above the worn, half-circle red leather both—creating a provocative blend of mod and dive--that serves free popcorn and hotdogs and services $7.50 pitchers of PBR on a regular basis. I realized that I am going to miss the pure romanticism that walking past such an influential part of modern American (popular) history instills in me every time I see the gaudy display of top-notch American showmanship and probably the most condensed location of American values one can ever come upon. Time Square really does have it all—fine theater and fine dining, strip clubs and dildo stores, five-star hotels and bed-bug infested apartments renting their uninhabitable lodging to unsuspecting tourists on Travelocity.com and other internet travel agents. I don’t think the history of this city will ever cease to impress me.
I only have three weeks left in this grand city. Three weeks. Can you believe it? Time here goes SO fast. Although I guess I can say that about that last eight months or so of my life – suddenly the days doesn’t possess enough time to work, play, relax and sleep to my content, there’s always one area that suffer—usually two. I’m really starting to feel the crunch of time as august fifth gets closer. I still want to take my camera out to coney island and to Rockefeller playground. I still want to walk mid-town from east to west on a not-too-hot Sunday afternoon. There’s still a ton of shit I want to do. Mostly, I don’t want to leave this city yet. I miss grass and breeze and friends with porches, bbqs and beer, but I love running around, meeting random people from Ireland or Winnebago, making friends and creating enemies of people ill probably never see again. Emily and Kristin told me the other night that I always meet interesting people and make friends (and get free drinks) by meeting people through arguments. Looking back, its true – at least in this city. Everyone has an opinion on something and I like hearing what that is, whether I agree or not.
Im still so enchanted with the notion of being in a new city—actually, of being an outsider somewhere. I think it has to do with moving as a high school freshman. That’s a time in ones life when you’re forming an identity of your own, and I honestly think a lot of who I grew to be came from being the odd-man-out, I grew to make myself on that persona. Make sense?
I don’t feel like ive changed much this summer. If anything, ive realized how much I actually like the person I am have grown to trust my instincts and the choices I make more.
If I do move back here after graduation, I do know that I don’t want to live in Manhattan. I’d loose it eventually. I definitely rely on my weekly breaks to Brooklyn, where the streets aren’t filed with throngs of people and you aren’t begged for your money or your time or your signature literally every ten feet. Even beyond that, I realize how much day retreats out to Long Island, even if it is just to the beach that’s just as crowded as a Manhattan avenue, lift my spirits. I realize that I can never call somewhere without trees on the streets home for a long period of time (good think Brooklyn has trees). Its amazing how invigorating the scent of fresh-cut grass can be.
That all aside, there’s no way the thrill and constant going-ons of the uber-urban scene will grow tired. They might get old for a short period of time, but they’ll never loose their allure. Even today, in the 105-degree-heat-index weather (as I was wearing a long sleeve shirt to cover my sunburned body at work) as I was walking along ninth and tenth avenues (where id never before been) I was thinking of how much im going to miss this when im gone. I walked just north of the well-lit, ad-plastered debacle that is Times Square as I headed from a friend’s apartment on 8th Ave back to the subway after an extended happy hour spent barhopping to this little jazz bar illuminated by red-stained-glass covered lamps hanging above the worn, half-circle red leather both—creating a provocative blend of mod and dive--that serves free popcorn and hotdogs and services $7.50 pitchers of PBR on a regular basis. I realized that I am going to miss the pure romanticism that walking past such an influential part of modern American (popular) history instills in me every time I see the gaudy display of top-notch American showmanship and probably the most condensed location of American values one can ever come upon. Time Square really does have it all—fine theater and fine dining, strip clubs and dildo stores, five-star hotels and bed-bug infested apartments renting their uninhabitable lodging to unsuspecting tourists on Travelocity.com and other internet travel agents. I don’t think the history of this city will ever cease to impress me.
posted by Erin at 12:39 AM
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