(no subject)
A wonderful time in the Big Core last weekend with flitterkit, epinephric, and maxrobbin, among many other friends--some long-lost, and some newfound. It is disturbing how quickly seven or more years can drift by without seeing a good friend; it is amazing, and wonderful, how easy it can be to pick up exactly where you left off. If there is such a thing as nostalgia without the -algia, this was it, and I was most grateful for the experience.
A visit to New York is always a strange experience for me. I have the New Englander's inborn distrust of West Connecticut, and creeping into Manhattan on the first day of a visit is an accordingly unsettling experience. By the time I reach my immediate destination, I have usually decided that I hate the city and everything about it. Good food and better company most often follow, though, and I'm borderline contented by the time I close my eyes. In the light of a second day, the city seems much more inviting. With a walk around, a breakfast excursion, and a few connections with trains and people, contentment passes into genuine pleasure, and by the second night I'm enamored of the place.
Eventually, the conflicting sentiments will start to settle down, leaning one way or another, but usually not before I have to take my leave. One of these days, I really should stay long enough to see how I truly feel. Of course, the point is moot--a trip to Mars isn't out of the question if the end result is time with good friends.
A visit to New York is always a strange experience for me. I have the New Englander's inborn distrust of West Connecticut, and creeping into Manhattan on the first day of a visit is an accordingly unsettling experience. By the time I reach my immediate destination, I have usually decided that I hate the city and everything about it. Good food and better company most often follow, though, and I'm borderline contented by the time I close my eyes. In the light of a second day, the city seems much more inviting. With a walk around, a breakfast excursion, and a few connections with trains and people, contentment passes into genuine pleasure, and by the second night I'm enamored of the place.
Eventually, the conflicting sentiments will start to settle down, leaning one way or another, but usually not before I have to take my leave. One of these days, I really should stay long enough to see how I truly feel. Of course, the point is moot--a trip to Mars isn't out of the question if the end result is time with good friends.