I was in NYC this past week/weekend. I worked during the week, and then extended the trip to the weekend to see my sister, grandma and friends. Every time I go back to the city, I realize how much I miss it. It's like meeting a friend you haven't seen in awhile - at first you have to remember which way is North, that avenues go from East to West, and then you're back in your comfort zone again. It's like you never left.
It's strange that I find comfort among so much chaos. I guess the rest of my life is kind of the same way...I thrive in chaos. But what's great about New York is that, just when the chaos and the crowds may be getting the best of you, you can duck into a museum, or a book store, or a coffee shop and escape for a bit, find a bit of quiet and comfort amid the storm.
I've written before about how my infatuation with New York. I guess I thought that that preoccupation with the city would die down over time, that I would become one of those people who say they love the city, but could never live there. I guess you don't know until you're actually stuck there (yes, in the tiny, cramped apartment). Maybe I see the city through rose-colored glasses (that's my specialty, after all), but there is still something that draws me to the city, that fits me just like an old friend.
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