I've only been home a month; more than enough time to have written a short novel on my 2 weeks of travels to New York and Central America. I'm sure Tim, my travel companion, already has. His piece on last year's Barcelona captured the essence of our trip so perfectly; I can't wait for this year's installment. A better written effort than I could ever muster. It's taken me lots of time to ease back into the so-called normal life - waking up on a regular schedule, having clean laundry, going to work and being productive, starting to call friends to let them know I'm back in town. It took until about now to start resuming that way of life. Blogging certainly has been at the bottom of the list. It's more fun to have the trip than document it, eh?
But anyway, Tim and I took our 4th annual New Years trip this year.
I flew to NYC to begin it all, so relieved at being back East. In a city with actual people. And things to do. And friends who I love. I didn't even mind a bit that it was cold and had snow.
Brooklyn welcomed me with open arms. An apartment that required $15,000 just to move in. A studio converted to a 3-bedroom. I'd still trade that for my spacious 3-story townhouse with a garage and walk-in closet.
Tim and I had a Crate and Barrel reunion with Eric. I shared Frozen Hot Chocolate with Yuhi. Jason and I wandered for cupcakes and sunsets and bridges. I competed for top score in the iPhone Bubblewrap game. I watched the snow fall in Union Square. I had NYE dinner with my favorite CRD, up from DC. I saw the Times Square madness, without participating. I froze on a roof deck, but the view was worth it. I watched the sunset in Brooklyn from another roof deck. I partied in Prospect Park with New School grad students and shared cheek kisses with strangers at midnight. Subways. Spontaneous concerts on subways. Nice pilots who swiped me through the AirTrain with their cards.
NYC is always good to me. Even the warm weather in Phoenix couldn't quite give me the same great welcome upon my return.
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