Wednesday, December 13, 2006
And I feel just like I’m living someone else’s life
I've started about 3 different blog posts in the last few days, but haven't had time to finish any of them and now they all seem irrelevant anyway, due to my freakishly short attention span.
In a few very short days I will be traveling for 7 1/2 hours (no direct flights from NYC to my hometown if you can believe it) and re-joining the ranks of the Suburbanites for a week. I will drive a car (not a manual, my favorite, however, because everyone in my family drives automatics). I will go into very large grocery stores, and perhaps have a panic attack at the sheer amount of open space. I will not miss the strong tourist presence on every street corner, but I will miss the hustle and bustle that infuses me with a zest for life everyday. I will run into people that I went to high school with and I will probably hate every single second of it. They will feign excitement at my life- but really they will be eyeing me as if I have every STD on the planet because I have not yet turned my uterus into a baby-making factory, or secured myself a ball and chain, otherwise known as a husband. I will spend too much time trying to snuggle with my sister's new rat-sized dog. And I will have trouble sleeping because I will be going to bed approximately 5 hours before my normal bed-time. I will hold my nieces and nephews as tightly as possible every opportunity that they will let me. I will feel like a terrible daughter because I will be so excited to get on the plane to return to New York, while my mother will struggle to hold herself together at the airport. I will have a ridiculous conversation with my step-mom regarding 'goals' for my life. At some point, my father will make me feel like I'm not good enough. At some point, I will want to punch my brother in the face for being a judgmental, self-righteous prick, who has never been nice to me.
I will remember all the reasons that I spent my whole life fantasizing about living in New York City and be proud of myself for having made it.
Today's Title from: Home by Michael Buble
In a few very short days I will be traveling for 7 1/2 hours (no direct flights from NYC to my hometown if you can believe it) and re-joining the ranks of the Suburbanites for a week. I will drive a car (not a manual, my favorite, however, because everyone in my family drives automatics). I will go into very large grocery stores, and perhaps have a panic attack at the sheer amount of open space. I will not miss the strong tourist presence on every street corner, but I will miss the hustle and bustle that infuses me with a zest for life everyday. I will run into people that I went to high school with and I will probably hate every single second of it. They will feign excitement at my life- but really they will be eyeing me as if I have every STD on the planet because I have not yet turned my uterus into a baby-making factory, or secured myself a ball and chain, otherwise known as a husband. I will spend too much time trying to snuggle with my sister's new rat-sized dog. And I will have trouble sleeping because I will be going to bed approximately 5 hours before my normal bed-time. I will hold my nieces and nephews as tightly as possible every opportunity that they will let me. I will feel like a terrible daughter because I will be so excited to get on the plane to return to New York, while my mother will struggle to hold herself together at the airport. I will have a ridiculous conversation with my step-mom regarding 'goals' for my life. At some point, my father will make me feel like I'm not good enough. At some point, I will want to punch my brother in the face for being a judgmental, self-righteous prick, who has never been nice to me.
I will remember all the reasons that I spent my whole life fantasizing about living in New York City and be proud of myself for having made it.
Today's Title from: Home by Michael Buble
Labels: New York
Posted by Chloe
at 1:52 PM |
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