Sunday, January 15, 2012

A letter to New York

Dear NY,

It's only been a month, but I've missed you since the day I left. I miss your smell and the way your tap water tastes, your sometimes unreliable L trains and your cash-only neighborhood coffee shops.

It was warm and breezy in Miami and now it's cool and breezy in Savannah. I can wear skirts and dresses and sequined shorts and forgo the socks, but I find myself wanting to wear jackets and tights and scarves, and then I sweat just thinking about it.

I miss the days of wandering down unknown streets for hours until my legs hurt and discovering stores and restaurants and parks and new cupcake flavors. All I had to do was walk outside. 

When I first landed at La Guardia four and a half months ago I asked myself lots of important questions like, Will I learn my way around as well as the locals? Will people be nice? What's it going to be like living without my dog? And then the immediately important question: How am I going to lug all these heavy-ass suitcases out of the airport, into the cab, out of the cab, and up four flights of stairs?

I'm still not sure how I did it, but I did.

With you, I had no choice but to learn how to use a gas stove. I still cringe for the first four seconds while I listen to the tick-tick-ticking sound and wait for the flame to pop up, but at least now I'm not afraid to turn it on. 

I learned that there are worse things than having to sleep on a $20 air mattress six-inches from the floor for months and worse things than managing my life with only three feet of closet space.

Thank you for making me tough(er). I'll be back soon.

Love,
Al
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