Real Life

I cried during my run this morning.
My route took me through the Mall, and as I entered the shelter of the American Elms I thought of how I exercise, and participate in endurance events for Dad. I do it because he cannot, I do it to honor him and make him proud. I do it for him and I do it for me. I connect with him.

There I was running under these majestic trees, converging of city and nature of hard lines and twisted branches. The tears just came, my heavy breathing and beating feet couldn't hold them back. I felt him, standing at the end of the Mall cheering me on. Every bench I ran by I thought, I could just stop and sit down and cry and then finish my work out. But I pushed on. I fixed my gaze on where he'd stand, right at the end of the row, right under the last canopy of trees. His smiling face, his hands clapping, all for me.
When I turned the corner back on to the East Side drive, I left the magic behind me. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and I looked ahead.
Its real life, this mixing of here and gone, body and soul, reality and magical thinking. It is a part of my real life. And then I got a taste of it even more, the real world, when I was stopped 50 feet later to allow pedestrians to cross in front of me to claim their seats in the Bandshell for Oprah in New York.
It was real life, and real life in the park this morning.

Sunday Afternoon

Oh Hi there. I've thought about posting many times these past few weeks. But then those times got full with other things. Like dinners with friends, runs with friends, dinner with in-laws and visiting friends, lunch with friends, more exercise with friends and without. You know, life.
My life has been full lately, and it feels great, but sometimes you just need a break. Which I did at the end of this week, and you know what was great? I had a CFW. I spent it sleeping in, running errands, cooking, laying on the couch and walking around in this gorgeous weather with my gorgeous husband. It was great.
Now I'm in that zone of Sunday afternoon. You know the one. When the weather is nice, and you've spend some time outside and now you're relaxing inside and it feels lazy and great and you don't want it to ever end. That's why I love Sundays. But I also hate them, when 7:00 or 8:00 pm rolls around and the reality of the Weekend being over, and your lazy Sunday afternoon being over sinks in. I don't like that feeling.
What I do like, is my job. A lot. So I'm happy to head in to work on Monday morning with a full plate of things to do that enrich me, teach me and motivate me. That's a feeling I can get used to. At the same time, after reading this weeks Modern Love this morning, I kind of want to retire now too. And then at the same time after seeing UP on Friday night, Matt doesn't ever want to get old. I guess we'll just keep plugging along, lapping up our Sunday afternoons together and see what happens, huh?

Umbrella Etiquette

I "studied" abroad in London. I put that in quotes, because I actually did a work abroad program where I got an internship and had to take one class (I took "Modern Theater and the London Stage which meant getting to see some plays for free!") and then write a paper about my internship/experiences after the program.
Point is, I lived in London from January-April. It rained while I was there.
One of the first things I noticed when walking the London streets during the frequent showers was how efficient people were with their umbrellas. I enjoyed watching the rising and falling tops of umbrellas as their owners navigated the busy streets. I was fascinated by this practice and immediately instituted it. Really, I had to in order to get by walking to and from work, the tube, the pub, you get the point.
Why haven't American's caught on to this? I walk through rainy New York and want to yell at everyone who walks around clueless with their umbrella getting in everyone's way. Just lift it up, you won't get wet, in fact you'll help your fellow New Yorker who is trying to get around you not get wet. Even when I lift mine up, people don't lower theirs a bit to let me get around them more easily, do they not get it?
I guess I shouldn't be that surprised. New Yorkers may be known for moving quickly, but I think that stereotype needs to be corrected. New Yorkers just don't care about what is going on around them. If they want to walk quickly, they will. If they want to stand in the middle of the sidewalk with their dogs wandering out in a radius around them talking on their cell phone, they will. If they want to walk really slowly and weave across the entire sidewalk so that no one can pass them, they will. New Yorkers just don't care.

There should be classes for this stuff.

End rant.

In my blood

I'm organizing an in-office blood drive through the NY Blood Center and have been for the last few months. The date kept getting pushed back because other things were popping up. (Funny side note, I was editing reviews for people and someone wrote: "She's great at figuring problems out when the poop up.")
The woman I dealt with was a real piece of work, she defines the saying. She must be great at her job because there was no way I was forgetting about doing this drive. When she finally got me on the phone, I showed great patience(I'm not too proud to admit it) and listened to her and answered her questions and she got me to nail down a date. Seriously, good at her job.
The next step was an in person meeting, something I was not looking forward to. This woman came in as a force. She had a huge bag, charms all over her cell phone and a lot to say.
She continually complimented me, complimented the office (it is not that nice). She seemed like she couldn't get over me, it was kind of funny and flattering too. The meeting was actually really informative and she was a pleasure to meet with.
So this afternoon she calls me, she went on for a bit about what a pleasure it was to meet with me, what a great thing I'm doing and how she's been thinking about me and my personality, how it is just great. It was kind of cute and then I moved on to other things.
As I left the office today, and was taking in how it was still light out, I thought about the phone call again. I like to think of myself as a centered (for the most part) person, someone who cares about other people while still caring for and about themselves. Someone who wants to see the good in people, situations, etc. I'm an optimistic person. I also think because of what I've gone through in my early twenties I am someone who probably has a bit of an older soul than other people my age. So I thought, maybe she saw all this? Maybe she is someone who picks up on people's auras, what they put out in to the world that isn't seen by the naked eye. I can't imagine that just meeting with me once and talking on the phone with me she would pick up and express all that she has, especially since I sent her some curt emails at the beginning.
It made me feel good. I want to know that who I feel I am is put out in to the world without me consciously knowing it, I suppose because that means it truly is who I am. I guess it solidified for me a confidence in what I'm doing and who I've become. Geez, this Blood Drive organizer is really really good at her job.

And then there was 1

Every morning between 9:30 and 10:00 I hear our neighbor open his door, step outside, shut the door and then lock it up. Clearly he is going to work. Every morning I sit inside in my pajamas, either on the couch or at my computer and I think, I wish that were me.
This week started Matt's 3 month Temp gig. It got me thinking more about returning to work, what that will really feel like. It is easy to hear the sounds of it occurring, to even see it when I've been out of the apartment early, and think I want it.
Yesterday, for the first time since the wedding, I had the apartment to myself for the day. I was both lazy and productive. I went grocery shopping, I cleaned the apartment and I read and watched TV with a bowl of popcorn. It was kind of fantastic. It was almost like I was getting to enjoy this freedom (that comes with a big cost) with a fresh perspective. It almost made me think that going back to work is going to be damn hard. Almost.
When I start to think about waking up earlier, making my way to the same place daily and being productive for 8+ hours five days a week a small part of me thinks, ugh back to the grind. An even bigger part of me thinks, "yes please". I know that once back in the work force I can look back on this time and appreciate it with a new lens, I can have vacations again and not feel guilty, I can have sick days and days off and relish in laying on the couch all day. I'm ready for the shifted perspective. Even if my empty apartment is giving me limitless possibilities of how to spend my day, and it feels kind of nice.

50/50

Yikes. These past two days, oy.

Sunday night I realized that I'd misplaced a letter from the DOL about a mandatory appointment I had to show up for on Monday. I remembered it was at 2:30 and after doing some investigation I figured it was probably at the Harlem office. So- Monday after not getting anyone on the phone (no surprise there) I made my way up to 125th St. via the Bus.

Now this was only the 2nd time I'd taken the bus to get somewhere in Manhattan that I couldn't get to by train. The first time was so easy and the ride went very smoothly. This time was a little different. The way there was fine, very friendly drivers who said hello and goodbye when changing shifts. I got to the DOL and found out I had gone to the wrong office (50-50 chance, I should have none then my luck was turning). So I had to turn around and come back in the morning.
The way back on the bus was a bit different. I sat down towards the front again and we were soon stopped by a young man who didn't have change for his dollar. One woman was quickly annoyed by this. She went on, and on, and on about how "you don't get on the bus if you don't have change." She added, "You can NOT get on the bus and ask for change, that is not allowed." And finished off with a long tirade about how the young man had walked all the way to the bus and didn't stop to get change. My fellow front of the bus passengers and I exchanged knowing smiles and hidden laughs.
Then we ran in to trouble. We stopped at 99th and Lexington and the driver complained to a dispatcher that he hadn't been relieved. And then we sat. And sat. And sat. Finally another 101 pulled up and we all climbed on. Yikes.
So today I headed out to catch another bus uptown. When we stopped this time for the driver switch the man got on with two basketballs. He slowly clamored around at the front of the bus and then held up a basketball and asked who wanted it. After a lot of confusion and several minutes a woman pushed her way up and grabbed the ball claiming, "You all were too slow it is mine" just as a young kid reached for it. The driver then told another woman who had shown interest that he would wait for her if she wanted to go out and get one at the park by the bus stop. I was flabbergasted. Seriously?
Luckily I made it on time and got to sit through my riveting introduction to Workforce 1. After about 20 minutes of waiting I was called and got to sit and watch a woman input my information into a database. Thrilling. Thankfully I'll have no hold up in my benefits. Very thankfully since I got a call tonight letting me know that the position I was surely getting and had put everything else on hold for 3 weeks for wouldn't work out. This is the second time in this job hunt that a department wanted me and couldn't bring me on. This sucks. I should have known when I picked the wrong DOL location that my 50/50 luck wasn't working this week.
Now on to Thanksgiving where I get to smile and shrug as relatives offer me condolences and advice.
Remember that Friends where Joey has the turkey stuck on his head? I wouldn't mind if that were me this year. At least it would give people something other than our job hunts to talk about.

Surviving

It is tough out there. The job postings are fewer and much further between. I'm not getting weekly calls from recruiters. I haven't been on an interview in a month. The company I was laid off from, just decreased the size again by 60 more people. Part of me is thankful I was in the first wave of people. I've had a leg up on the market, and I didn't have to be a part of a company that was continuing to circle the drain. I never had to have survivors guilt, I got to just leave and enjoy a lot of my time off.
I am curious about the people who were let go with an interesting level of fascination. Part of me is happy they know what it feels like now. I want to know all the details because I still feel a piece of myself is involved, and because I want to be. Don't forget about us, the people who left 3 months ago! Another part of me feels really badly for them, and wants to give me them all the nitty gritty details of what its like and what to expect. It is like I'm the survivor now. Because I have survived, I will survive.
Oy- I just heard the NFL pregame show hosts talk about a little boy diagnosed with Leukemia 2 weeks ago who was given 2 weeks to live and his dying wish was to feed the homeless so the Seattle Seahawks have gotten behind him to help. That certainly puts things in perspective.

I like giving old songs new lyrics

Nightrunning, remembering that night
When summer hit before mid June
And we could see the moon
Here we are just two
Running side by side in full sweat
Around this with no sun
And still the need has won
For nightrunning

You, I'm glad you're with me
You, thank god you run
You, you're running with me
Laughing while you choke on bugs
Nightrunning

Park

After I realized how perfectly situated the sun was for not only an early evening stroll through the park, but some great light for pictures I took Matt and my Camera for a walk in the park. As we strolled along East Side Drive we talked about all the things we still had to discover around us. It felt good to be out together, exploring our City, spending time not in front of the TV, it felt refreshing. I'm starting to really fall in love with The Mall. I love how the city peeks over the ancient trees around you as walk it, I love that it is still a gravel path, I love how it feels like I'm in a special place and that millions of other before me have felt the exact same way. I hope my pictures were able to capture it.

Boxes

A year ago this weekend, I moved to NY. I could be sitting where I am right now, but would have been surrounded by boxes. I remember waking up Sunday morning and starting to slowly unpack the boxes in the Kitchen, I figured it was the easiest thing to get put away. I started to sort things, stack things and get organized while still unorganized.
As soon as my Mom and Brother headed back to NH, Matt and I started our long list and started buying.
Within 2 weeks everything was bought, put together and the boxes were gone. I work quickly. Now a year has passed. I found myself thinking the other day how fun it would be to unpack all over again. The process was joyful for me. Not only was I unpacking my life and joining it with Matt's, I was starting a new journey, I was putting the past year behind me. I didn't know where this step was going to take me, it was exciting, exhilarating, and a whole lot of fun. I got to go to Ikea and buy things I really needed, I was gifted things I'd had my eye on for months, it was all mine to do whatever I pleased with, as long as Matt agreed- and when does he not? I like being organized, I like putting things in their places, so unpacking this apartment was fun for me on many levels. I would do it all over again.
Now we've got our eyes on bigger things, we'll be here another year but after that I want a house to call our own and I want to unpack in to that place and not know when we'll leave. I want to use the knowledge HGTV has given me. There is a long way for us to go still, but when I think back on the last year it is thoughts like, "Damn where did the time go?" So, before too long we'll be putting are now joined life in to boxes, and as little fun as packing is at least I can hold on to the joy I know I'll feel unpacking again.

Downtown 6 Train

When she walked on the train, I knew the kind of person she was. I’m not saying, I knew but I knew. You know?

She looked unsure of herself, but sure of how she handled these situations. I saw her survey her surrounding and realize there wasn’t an open seat. She took her back pack off her back, but kept it on one shoulder, possessive of herself materially and physically, the back pack wasn’t going to come all the way off. She moved towards a bar, and planted her feet. She stood right in front of me.

She wore all black, it is the most flattering color.

As I looked up at her standing in front of me, I could see how dry her hands were. I chanced a glance at her face, which was moisturized and made up, but not overdone. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t taken care of her hands. They appeared dry from too much washing, too much time spent ensuring things were just so, too much time making up for something she felt was lacking.

She was short, and could just barely reach the top bar. Each time she could afford to, her hand came down and she held her book, but when she tried to balance as the train jerked and moved she had to continually stretch back up and hold on.

I wasn’t judging, more just observing. There are so many people to watch on the train.

The next day I saw a guy seated across from me, he was so flawlessly put together. Polished shoes, pressed trousers, shirt and tie and a trench coat with a popped collar. His hair was styled, but looked effortless with just the hint of product. He had a soft face, and I kind of wanted to think he was one of “those guys”, but he portrayed something sweet and gentle. I’m sure he was someone who enjoyed a social life, plenty of women and a job on a high powered track, but as much as I wanted to make a story with judgments thrown in, I couldn’t. Something about him just seemed too real and down to earth. As we moved out of 14^th street, a woman stepped on and leaned against the door opposite him. I saw him glance at her, taking her in, from his look she must be worth checking out. He did it again several times, reading her face, processing what he saw. I could see a sense of confidence and wonder in his look, like he was thinking, “She’s hot, I could get her number if I wanted.” I almost hoped to watch him track her down as we all exited the train and ask for a number, but he didn’t. On to bigger and better, I guess.

This morning as I stepped in to place, I half stepped on someone’s foot. The woman who it belonged too jerked it away quickly, angrily. She was clearly not just annoyed, but pissed. I looked down at her, saying “Sorry” as I did. Her face was covered with a graffitied Ed Hardy hat, ear phones in and IPod touch held protectively in her hands. She clearly didn’t hear me, but as I lifted my head up I saw her look up at me, annoyance passing over her face. Now I was annoyed. The vibe from her was aggressive, and I almost wanted to say, “It’s not like I stepped on your foot on purpose.”

A few stops later I was able to sit down, across from her. I took her in. Her eyes were closed now as we moved further downtown. I saw an enormous diamond ring on her ring finger and immediately thought, “Maybe she’s got to portray some kind of tough attitude to protect that.” Whatever it was, it stuck with me, as did the other two people I came across this week. The people you run in to, sometimes literally, on a daily commute.

Dorky

Sometime the city feels small. A few minutes of walking and we were on the Upper West Side, just like that. Why don't I walk across the park here more often? Everything was just the same, families spending time together on play grounds, runners stretching on benches, Kevin Bacon walking his dog. I could still be back on 5th Avenue walking south, but I wasn't, and I felt a world away and yet not. I'm rambling.
When you talk about these neighborhoods, they seem so far away and apart. They have different personalities, a different feel to them. An expanse of green, and actually a body of water separates them. When I'm home, on the Upper East Side, I feel far away. But then as I walk across at the top of the reservoir, I hear myself exclaim as we reach the West Side, "And just like that, we're here!" But I don't say it out loud, I keep it to myself, it feels dorky. Sometimes my excitement at discovering things here, at falling in love with little pieces of the city feels that way, but hey I'm a dork. The most exciting discovery yesterday was crocuses, just about to bloom. Spring is on the way and I can't wait to discover it all over again here in New York.

Couple City

As I was walking to spinning with a co-worker tonight she asked if I felt like I was getting the full city experience by going out with other couples. She commented that she kind of always felt that you really get the city experience when you're out for fun dinners/nights on the town, and alluded to it being easier when you're in a couple. Her face brightened as she commented about how much fun it must be to be living in the city as a couple and getting to experience it through that.
At first, I said- "Well Matt and I don't go out that much..." Then I paused, that doesn't mean we're not fun or don't have fun when we do. She was right. I am getting the full city experience by going out and experiencing the city with friends, I'm doing what I sometimes wish I were out doing when I sit at home alone.
I do it with my girlfriends, and I do it as a couple. Is it easier to commit to social engagements as a couple, definitely, and with this group of friends we don't worry about cost which always exposes us to more.
The whole couple lifestyle does open you up to more in the city. You can take off the airs of being with a group of girls "out on the town." You can relax a little when you're with the one person who loves you regardless of any flaws, you can let yourself give in to the atmosphere and not worry about who is around you and how they are reacting to you, and if its friends surrounding you, the relaxation comes even more easily.
Living together and getting married, we are moving in to that world of going out together, getting invited to things together, and its fun! Now that I've had this epiphany, I want to do it more often, if only we had the income to match my ideal.

Sunday in the Park

I smiled to myself as I neared the 90th St. entrance, "Thank God I've got another year here," I thought, "I need to promise myself to utilize it more." Walking through the park gives me such a sense of calm, joy, privilege and belonging, why wouldn't I make a promise to myself to go more often.
Today, I walked paths I didn't know about, saw secret spots with lovers cuddling on benches, sun drenched rocks occupied by someone with a book in hand, small clearings with bird watchers eagerly waiting for their favorite to come feed, I heard yells of German, French, English and Spanish as children rushed down snowy hills and parents watched on with glee. I don't know if the pictures do it justice, I guess you have to be there, but I tried.

Scrabble

I downloaded Scrabble on my phone the other day. It is a great game to play on the train, but dame the hard setting is hard- the words the computer spits out are ridiculous! So when I had the opportunity to put an S on a 5 letter word and start that on a Triple Word score, I had to go for it. I had: FGTASUO. Now, if you know Scrabble you know that the G and the F are both high score tiles, so immediately I though of fags, like the slang for a cigarette. But there was this guy, sitting next to me, and I knew he had been watching my last few turns- and why not, I would have if the situation had been reversed- and I felt completely embarrassed to put down fags- he would think I was homophobic. (I care wayyy too much about what complete strangers think of me!) But, I went for it- because the computer was kicking my ass and I wanted the points! Turns out fags isn't a scrabble word on the phone version. To top it off, the computer got a Bingo on the next turn.

Baggage

As I walked quickly towards the turnstiles that would exit me out on Broadway and E. Houston I saw a young man lugging an enormous suitcase up the stairs from the B,D, F, V platforms. Then just behind him was a older overweight woman lugging herself up the stairs. The young man quickly set the suitcase down, nodded slightly and began walking towards the turnstiles with me. I heard the woman say, "Thank You."
I thought of how nice it was that he helped her, and wondered if she had asked or he had offered. He appeared to be wanting to escape back in to the persona he was going for, mostly thuggish- big baggy sweat shirt, oversized checkered Yankees hat, eyes turned down, overall slouch and baggy jeans with untied sneakers. But he kept looking back, checking on the woman. As we started to ascend the stairs out of the station he looked back one more time, and I could read his face for that split second. I saw his struggle to want to go back and help her again, his question if anyone else would help her up this next set of stairs that she clearly couldn't manage on her own. He quickly turned his head back to the stairs he was climbing and pulled his hood up.
But I know his secret, and the secret that many people (not everyone, but most I think) carry. There is goodness in all of us.

Black Dress

When she first walked in front of me I thought, "Damn, that girl is fierce." Then I started to look at her more closely and realized how opposite we were. She wore a flowy, but fitted black dress with a leather section on the back. I wore a simple cotton black dress. She was strutting down the pavement in knee high black stiletto boots, I was flopping along in black flip flops. Her head was shaved, my hair is past my shoulder blades. She carried a large designer black leather bag with gold buckles and zippers, I was clutching my small turquoise wallet.
I was really taking this in, thinking how different we were, how funny that she had stepped in front of me to walk down the same block and how immediately I had started to pick up our differences, but it was because of our similarities, both young women in black dresses walking on a cool September morning.
As we neared the coffee shop I was heading to, I thought how cool it would be if she walked in, and then she did and held the door for me.
We both ordered iced coffees. I noticed the tag on the shirt she had under the dress, H&M, the tank top I wore under my dress was H&M too. She got her coffee first and left the chocolate they give you with your order, I did the same. I was still lost in thought before I realized she had already quickly walked out.
As I headed back to the office I thought about how in a city so big and diverse there are still the small things that connect us, and maybe we aren't so different after all.
Although, she put sugar in her coffee, and I never do.

The Wind in my Hair

I was a bit chilly when we climbed into the cab on Monday night, but I left the window most of the way down. I love the feeling of moving fast through the city streets, the windows down, the wind in my hair and on my face. It is admittedly one of my favorite parts of taking cabs at night.
We were stop and go on 6th for a bit, but as soon as we hit the park and the cab turned left on Park, we were off. I put my head back and turned my face to the open window. I felt calm, at peace, happy to be in that moment. I reached my hand across the seat and Matt took it. He was in the moment too. It really hit me that this was my life, and I was happy. I was in a city I love, with the man I love and the wind was flying across my face and through my hair, I felt alive. I didn't want it to end, but as we exited the cab, Matt took my hand again and we walked slowly down our block still a bit entranced.
And then, in front of our first place together, he made the moment even longer by getting down on one knee and opening a box to a sparkling diamond ring. And I said yes. Of course. And there were kisses and, "Oh my god we're engaged!"
As he walked me around the block to help us come back to reality he gave me something my Father had written in January of 2006 at my parents annual New Years Eve party. It was his prediction for the year and it said, Adrienne will get a ring. Maybe it was a little late, but I did, and he was there, full blessing and all.

Rainy Omens and Selflessness

I woke up at 3 wondering what the noise was. It was the big round drops of rain on our AC unit. I pulled the shade out a bit and looked out the window. Ick.
I woke up again at 8 and hit snooze, 5 times. Ick.
When I finally got up, I had to turn on the light to get dressed, thus waking Matt up way before he probably wanted to, "No, its okay, I should get up, its okay." That's why I love him.
I had already planned on wearing a dress, Thank God. Jeans don't cut it in this weather, you'll be soaked to the mid thigh by the time you reach the subway.
I walked outside and put up my umbrella, it would be helpless in this downpour, but I tried anyway. I turned around at the end of my block. I walked inside and buzzed upstairs, "Will you bring me down my raincoat?" Again, this is why I love him.
When he opened the door to hand it to me, I asked, "Wanna drive me to 86th St?" I was mostly kidding and he said no anyway. He's not completely selfless, but who is?
The rain had let up at that point, so it wasn't as bad as I thought anyway.
As soon as I signed on to email when I got to work I got a gchat: "I feel so guilty. As soon as you left I thought, oh man I should drive her and tried to call." Okay, this is why I love him.

But besides the complete selflessness of my boyfriend that makes me adore him, I should have known the rain was a sign.

Tonight my 6 train pulled into 14th st. and there was a 4 waiting across the platform, the typical train switching happened, and both sat, doors open. First they told everyone the 4 train was out of service. So they all go on our 6. Then they told us the 6 was out of service, so we all got off. THEN they told us there were no east-bound trains running. So we all left the station.
Crap. At least it wasn't raining anymore. I had to cancel my plans and feared I'd have to venture to a bus... a bus?? I'd never taken one of those, how does it work here!!
Luckily again, my there in a call boyfriend looked up that the NRQW's were running, so I got on a surprisingly not too crowded one and, I think, got to the last 6 train out of 59th st. And, when I got home sweaty and tired, he had already turned the AC on in the bedroom for me.
So, although the rain turned out, as I feared, to be a bad sign, there was some silver lining on the clouds.
God, that was cheesy.
But, in all seriousness- I feel for the people that were truly affected by the transformer explosion.

Fireflys

So I do this thing when I've got plans that involve putting forth out of the ordinary efforts. I want to bail out last minute. Say, I've got plans to meet friends somewhere that requires trains I've never taken before and many transfers and will result in me not knowing how to get home from said place. I'm usually gung-ho when we make the plans and then as the day comes and the time to leave approaches, I want to call and say, "Sorry, I'm out." I'm pretty sure it is because I don't want to put in the effort, and am a bit nervous about getting there. But if I had stuck it out, and gone anyway despite my hesitations I would probably have had a blast, seen a new part of the city and gotten more comfortable with the transit system, so how come I can't see past my ehhnes?
Perfect true life example:
I bought Summer Stage Decemberists tickets about a month ago. I was totally pumped. I'd been listening to Crane Wife since the beginning of the year and was really getting into it. Many weekends in February and March had been spent at home with Mom, Decemberists blasting and us writing at the kitchen table. Enough back story, I was excited.
Then, all of a sudden it was the Sunday before the concert. I didn't know what time the show was, where the stage was, and what the plans with my friends were. I started to get a little anxious.
E-Mails were flying back and forth on Monday, and it was determined that the working girls would meet the non-working girls inside the venue close to when we figured the Decemberists would go on. We would miss the group dinner and find it on our own, sad. I felt rushed at work, we had spent most of the day at another location meeting people, and I almost felt like canceling, working till 7 and just chilling at home with Matt. What didn't help was that I'd had a busy full weekend and Monday hurt even more when it came. Again, I wanted to cancel. I'd been so pumped when I'd bought the tickets and now, I didn't care. I was able to see a great up-and-coming band, in the middle of central park on a gorgeous day and I didn't want to. What's wrong with me?
Well, I didn't back out- really how could I? Instead I took my time at dinner with my other working-girl friend and causually strolled over to the park and Summer Stage entrance. I tried not to rush myself, or stress myself out, it wasn't worth it.
When we got inside, the non-working girls weren't even there yet! We sat around and people watched as Grizzly Bear played, I wasn't that into what they were playing at the time, and waited. When the full group finally came together we pushed our way into the crowd and got pretty good standing room seats.
Grizzly Bear played their last song, and I loved it, and then the Decemberists came on and they were fantastic. They tell such great stories with their songs and put on a great live show. They were all dressed as if for a garden party and started the show with summery songs. I only know their most recent album and I loved the new-to-me songs and want to download their other albums after I post this.
While we were clapping and yelling for them to do an encore I thought about my hesitations earlier in the day and how glad I was that I'd ignored them. I was standing in front of a small stage, seeing a fantastic band with great friends, a cool summer breeze was blowing around us and firefly's flickered beyond the stage. "I have to remember this feeling next time", I thought, and hopefully I will.