Still crazy after all these years.
I figure I do this about once a year.
I make a post (usually out of boredom) where I insist I need to start writing in this thing more because I believe it’s beneficial to document your own life from time to time. And I read my friends page religiously, so why shouldn’t I update more myself? But often after that one annual entry, my online musings wander and I neglect my LJ more and more until I’m limited to only posting the occasional curious internet finding with zero personal details.
So this is that yearly, obligatory “I should do this more often…” post.
This year it arose out of the fact that I now have a job. A “real person” job, as Noah would put it. I graduated from college, essentially completing my formal education for the rest of my life (unless I go to culinary school, but that’s another point entirely), moved to New York sans-employment and subsequently was offered a “real person” job as a copy editor in Manhattan. I ride the M to the F or the Q/N (depending on my mood) to Herald Square every morning, Monday through Friday, and report to my cubicle on the second floor of 463 Seventh Avenue from 8:30 to 5:30.
I’m still baffled by this.
I work next door to Macy’s and 2 blocks from the Empire State Building. I get an hour for lunch and all major holidays off, including 2 days for Thanksgiving and 2 days for Christmas. In less than 30 days when I am “officially” hired by The Doneger Group, I will have a real benefits package (as opposed to the fake one previously provided by my parents) and in 6 months a 401(k) plan. A 401(k) plan. Let me say that one more time… A 401-fucking-K plan. I am old. And I actually LIKE it.
I went back to Philly yesterday. To move Gary out of his house. I felt incredibly strange and out of place as soon as we crossed the Ben Franklin, and I think it just proves I’m done with that city and everything in it. I honestly thought I would miss it a little at first. Just the things I enjoyed the most and the places I frequented.
I don’t. Don’t get me wrong… I had such a great 4 years, really enjoyed myself, met some amazing people who changed my life, had fabulous internships and grew up into a stronger, worldlier individual. But as I tried to muster up a little twinge of nostalgia for Reading Terminal or the Book Trader or even a Great Pumpkin sundae from the Franklin Fountain… all I could think about was getting an ice from the little shop off Metro. Mmmm. Almond Joy.
And I couldn’t wait to get home. And get my ice. And figure out how to operate my electric lawn mower so I can get the grass cut so I can go to bed early so I can get up at 6:30. I am old. And I actually love it.
I wrote the following in various entries 4 years ago. It’s astounding how far I’ve come.
That city is my heart and soul. It's the only place I can be entirely alone, without a friend in sight and still feel at home anyway. I miss it, and my heart aches to be there and has done so now for 18 years… It's New York. It was always New York and it will always be New York. Now that I know I'm not going to spend my freshman year at NYU... deep down inside... the only part that is really, intensly bothering me... is that I won't be in New York City. For another year of my life, I won't be in New York City.
I see it like this... we all have a soul, an essence, a central part of our being, whatever you wish to call it, that defines who we truly are on the inside. I believe a little piece of mine lives in New York. I honestly do. It's the part of me that keeps me coming back and that makes me never want to leave. I don't think I can ever be truly happy w/o that little piece of me, either. I mean, I can come extremely close, 99.9%, but that one tiny bit that can get me to 100% is only a part of me when I'm in NY because when I'm there, no matter how crappy things may go, I'm still extremely happy… In a way, NYC is my soulmate. I get that feeling in New York which other people describe as the feeling behind finding the one person they are meant to live the rest of their life with. In other words, I feel as though I've found the one city I am meant to live the rest of my life with.
It’s good to be home. Still crazy after all these years…
I make a post (usually out of boredom) where I insist I need to start writing in this thing more because I believe it’s beneficial to document your own life from time to time. And I read my friends page religiously, so why shouldn’t I update more myself? But often after that one annual entry, my online musings wander and I neglect my LJ more and more until I’m limited to only posting the occasional curious internet finding with zero personal details.
So this is that yearly, obligatory “I should do this more often…” post.
This year it arose out of the fact that I now have a job. A “real person” job, as Noah would put it. I graduated from college, essentially completing my formal education for the rest of my life (unless I go to culinary school, but that’s another point entirely), moved to New York sans-employment and subsequently was offered a “real person” job as a copy editor in Manhattan. I ride the M to the F or the Q/N (depending on my mood) to Herald Square every morning, Monday through Friday, and report to my cubicle on the second floor of 463 Seventh Avenue from 8:30 to 5:30.
I’m still baffled by this.
I work next door to Macy’s and 2 blocks from the Empire State Building. I get an hour for lunch and all major holidays off, including 2 days for Thanksgiving and 2 days for Christmas. In less than 30 days when I am “officially” hired by The Doneger Group, I will have a real benefits package (as opposed to the fake one previously provided by my parents) and in 6 months a 401(k) plan. A 401(k) plan. Let me say that one more time… A 401-fucking-K plan. I am old. And I actually LIKE it.
I went back to Philly yesterday. To move Gary out of his house. I felt incredibly strange and out of place as soon as we crossed the Ben Franklin, and I think it just proves I’m done with that city and everything in it. I honestly thought I would miss it a little at first. Just the things I enjoyed the most and the places I frequented.
I don’t. Don’t get me wrong… I had such a great 4 years, really enjoyed myself, met some amazing people who changed my life, had fabulous internships and grew up into a stronger, worldlier individual. But as I tried to muster up a little twinge of nostalgia for Reading Terminal or the Book Trader or even a Great Pumpkin sundae from the Franklin Fountain… all I could think about was getting an ice from the little shop off Metro. Mmmm. Almond Joy.
And I couldn’t wait to get home. And get my ice. And figure out how to operate my electric lawn mower so I can get the grass cut so I can go to bed early so I can get up at 6:30. I am old. And I actually love it.
I wrote the following in various entries 4 years ago. It’s astounding how far I’ve come.
That city is my heart and soul. It's the only place I can be entirely alone, without a friend in sight and still feel at home anyway. I miss it, and my heart aches to be there and has done so now for 18 years… It's New York. It was always New York and it will always be New York. Now that I know I'm not going to spend my freshman year at NYU... deep down inside... the only part that is really, intensly bothering me... is that I won't be in New York City. For another year of my life, I won't be in New York City.
I see it like this... we all have a soul, an essence, a central part of our being, whatever you wish to call it, that defines who we truly are on the inside. I believe a little piece of mine lives in New York. I honestly do. It's the part of me that keeps me coming back and that makes me never want to leave. I don't think I can ever be truly happy w/o that little piece of me, either. I mean, I can come extremely close, 99.9%, but that one tiny bit that can get me to 100% is only a part of me when I'm in NY because when I'm there, no matter how crappy things may go, I'm still extremely happy… In a way, NYC is my soulmate. I get that feeling in New York which other people describe as the feeling behind finding the one person they are meant to live the rest of their life with. In other words, I feel as though I've found the one city I am meant to live the rest of my life with.
It’s good to be home. Still crazy after all these years…