My on and off romance
Okay, it's confession time: There's a girl that I have an on and off romance with. Anytime I need to lick my wounds, I go up to see her. Anytime I have something to celebrate, I go to see her.
Her name is New York, and I find an odd comfort in the constant running of her people, the cacophony of street sounds, voices, smells, and different faces on her sidewalks.
The past two weeks have taken an enormous chunk out of me. The problem with balancing a full-time job with a (practically) full-time writing career is that, when life gets in the way, I only have energy for one of the two. Nine times out of ten, and out of sheer necessity, that energy goes to my 9 to 5, and the writing falls by the wayside. My quest to find answers to a question or two have only produced even more questions than I initially had.
So, as I sit in my living room watching Elise the black cat curling up on my extra pillow (left on the sofa from a yesterday viewing of Spider-Man 2), and listen to Dashboard Confessional on my record player...I'm craving the distractions of the greatest city in the United States, just to escape the self I've built here in Richmond, and to hang out with the me that awaits in subway stations and coffee shops, lurking like a ghost or vampire.
It will be my last trip up there before becoming an uncle early next month, and I'm so badly craving the romance of the city, and the comfort of her unpredictability, the only unpredictability I welcome into my life.
Her name is New York, and I find an odd comfort in the constant running of her people, the cacophony of street sounds, voices, smells, and different faces on her sidewalks.
The past two weeks have taken an enormous chunk out of me. The problem with balancing a full-time job with a (practically) full-time writing career is that, when life gets in the way, I only have energy for one of the two. Nine times out of ten, and out of sheer necessity, that energy goes to my 9 to 5, and the writing falls by the wayside. My quest to find answers to a question or two have only produced even more questions than I initially had.
So, as I sit in my living room watching Elise the black cat curling up on my extra pillow (left on the sofa from a yesterday viewing of Spider-Man 2), and listen to Dashboard Confessional on my record player...I'm craving the distractions of the greatest city in the United States, just to escape the self I've built here in Richmond, and to hang out with the me that awaits in subway stations and coffee shops, lurking like a ghost or vampire.
It will be my last trip up there before becoming an uncle early next month, and I'm so badly craving the romance of the city, and the comfort of her unpredictability, the only unpredictability I welcome into my life.
posted by Christopher Irving at
11:58 AM
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