then Seattle

Since moving to New York, I’ve been torn between wanting to be a tourist and wanting to fit in with the natives. The result? I go to the Tree Lighting but not the Times Square ball drop (and I wouldn’t even if you paid me). But if being a tourist means I get to really see the big stuff in New York, then sign me up.

Visiting new cities is a relief because I don’t care about being that idiot with the map, walking down the street looking up to see the city. Seattle was beautiful. It looks just like it does on Grey’s Anatomy, too. Pine trees everywhere you look, and a cool wind that reminds you you’re near water. Oh, and it smells like fish.

I ate a lot of good food, a lot of hotel breakfasts, and spent way too much time smiling. The space needle was a bit of a disappointment, but still pretty, and the Science Fiction museum was great, if you’re into that. I wish I had pictures of the storm troopers from the Random House party, but I forgot my camera that night.

Apologies for the boringness of this entry.

Chicago first

I thought I had been cold before. I’ve lived in Pennsylvania and New England. Walked home through woods and snow and ice. I was once even encased in snow while waiting for a ride during a snow storm in Boston. And I was born in a blizzard. So you see, I have plenty of reasons to think I’ve been cold. But I was so wrong. So, so wrong. I have never been cold like I was cold in Chicago. I wasn’t just shivering, my whole body was shaking. Chicago does not joke around. It was 12 degrees out.

And it was snowing. Big white flakes to catch on your tongue (believe me, I tried) and brush off your nose.

All in all, Chicago was wonderful. I spent my time playing with a dog, sleeping, watching tv with Patrickmybrother and of course, catching snowflakes.

…and I don’t feel any different?

Things have changed. It isn’t the year I graduated in anymore. It’s now 2007, and while I’d like to say I’ve grown up into an uber cool adult, I haven’t. Mostly, I’ve been the same as I’ve always been. If anything, I have only become one of the worker ants. Office all day, sleep at night, repeat.

How did I notice this? Facebook. No longer am I tempted to join the crazy college groups like ‘I heart 80’s Dance Parties’ and ‘I went to public school, bitch!’ Those groups don’t describe me anymore.

Instead, these are the types of groups that might best describe my social life:
What part of ‘out of office’ don’t you understand?
If you need me I’ll be in my office sorting through email b/c I was
away all last week traveling for work.
…Instead of a group like ‘I party all night’ I suggest an alternative: ‘I wear jeans on Fridays.’

And this is the kind of event I’d get an invite for:
Keg party at 4, and by ‘keg’ I mean water cooler, and maybe some Swiss Miss if I’m feeling fancy.
location: 5th floor kitchen

And my interests might be:
jiffy bags
my expense account
my office luvvvrs!!!1!
invoices
multi colored post-its

In the immortal words of Blink 182, “I guess this is growing up.”

You’re Simone de Beavoir, as you get out the car

This is how it happens: You are standing on a bus, listening to music and wondering why you can’t put words together like that. You are acutely aware of the stranger’s hand brushing yours on the pole. At the next stop you are sitting. You are sitting and listening to the music, and looking between the rows of seats through the front window. And much like a future musician who first picks up his instrument, you click. And you know that you will write. Your internal monologue organizes itself into sentences instead of stray thoughts, and you hope, you wish, you believe that maybe this is it. Maybe you can be a writer, even though you’ll never be able to make it sound the way it does in your head. Even though for now (and possibly for years to come) there are bills and loan payments and responsibilities and rents to be paid. Someday, there will be novels to be written and lines to be jotted down and rushing home to get it out on paper before it leaves you forever.

This is how your life is decided. In the middle of the mundane, on a bus home from work after an entirely un-noteworthy day, your life will be different forever. At this point, the crisis has occured, and the climax becomes inevitable. And we all know that after the climax, nothing is ever the same.