According to Plan

It’s been too long, but not because nothing has happened. No. This summer was the brightest and the bluest and how do you write always sunshine and the longest days turning into longer nights and the hazy happy blur they all became? And now it's already winter and even though that blue has turned to gray, I can't imagine being anywhere else than home, in DC.

On most days, I have no need for elsewhere because here, yes, home, is where I only ever want to be.But on some days, the idea of elsewhere seems alluring and exciting and a little bit dangerous.

I've been meaning to write about my trip to New York for the last few days, before the memory of those sights and those feelings and those conversations and the sound of that laugh slip too far away from me.

And I couldn't help but notice how that feeling of journey, of travel, of departures and arrivals seemed so familiar. It feels like I spent so much of last year in transit--going back and forth from DC to Williamsburg. And after a short weekend away, I can remember how it felt to first glimpse the purple and white lights of the city in the distance, to put away my book and button up my coat, to will the train to race into the station.

This time, though, I wasn't traveling alone and I barely did any reading. Flying through those anonymous cities, blurred green and brown landscapes, the anticipation and delirium brought on by the prospect of a new city made the trip more exciting than any of those train rides I took last year. And it was a whirlwind. There was Times Square and weirdos, and even weirder weirdos, and there were tourists who never quite learned how to walk properly and taxi drivers who have no shame; there was a smelly subway station and an even smellier bus station; and there was a long drive back to not look forward to and a noticeable lack of hand sanitizer

And while there wasn't a trip to Rockefeller Center, there was a free Broadway show and easy conversation and belly laughs and neurotic banter, and the oldest friends I've got, not to mention there was even a new friend too. There was spiked apple cider and a holiday party and the plotting of an escape from said party under the influence of said cider; there were toasted bagels and Thai food and sandwiches, so many sandwiches. And most of all, there was spontaneity and an overwhelming sense of freedom.

The city was like a dream this past weekend, as we made our way uptown and down and back up again, and finally out. My head was spinning the whole time and my heart was thumping so hard I thought it might spill out of my chest, and even though I complain about New York, I still think that it was the gritty charm of the city that finally got a hold of me; there really is something about New York that makes it a hell of a place to visit.