Forgive my absence.
Coming back to New York from Stockholm is a little like drinking the finest champagne while sticking your leg in a meat grinder.
It's been glorious -- a perfect picnic with friends at Governor's Island, a tête-à-tête promenade up the High Line, tacos, buying running shoes at 8:30pm because I needed them and because I can, a grand BLT party with 25 pounds of bacon, kick ass tomatoes and four kinds of homemade mayo at Winnie's.
But the onslaught to the senses is also overwhelming after quiet, clean Stockholm. The noise, the traffic, the unexpected street tar that ruined my sneaks (hence the need to buy a new pair), the way you can regret opening your mouth to stick a piece of chewing gum in if you're walking down the wrong block.
To go from the land of lagom -- where life is engineered to be in the middle, not too high, not too low -- to New York, the land of Ultimate XXXXtremes! is kicking me in my callous-free gonads. I know I've got to get with the program or New York will kick me out. And I'm sure I'll get there. I just need a little adjustment period.
In the meantime, I just want to say: FUUUUUUUUCK!!! MY FOOOOOOOT!
Coming back to New York from Stockholm is a little like drinking the finest champagne while sticking your leg in a meat grinder.
It's been glorious -- a perfect picnic with friends at Governor's Island, a tête-à-tête promenade up the High Line, tacos, buying running shoes at 8:30pm because I needed them and because I can, a grand BLT party with 25 pounds of bacon, kick ass tomatoes and four kinds of homemade mayo at Winnie's.
But the onslaught to the senses is also overwhelming after quiet, clean Stockholm. The noise, the traffic, the unexpected street tar that ruined my sneaks (hence the need to buy a new pair), the way you can regret opening your mouth to stick a piece of chewing gum in if you're walking down the wrong block.
To go from the land of lagom -- where life is engineered to be in the middle, not too high, not too low -- to New York, the land of Ultimate XXXXtremes! is kicking me in my callous-free gonads. I know I've got to get with the program or New York will kick me out. And I'm sure I'll get there. I just need a little adjustment period.
In the meantime, I just want to say: FUUUUUUUUCK!!! MY FOOOOOOOT!
I find that the subway stations of New York and Stockholm make for a perfect analogy of each city/experience. In New York, the personnel are at best indifferent, and at worst hostile. You hurtle yourself up and down the subway stairs, there's grime everywhere, and there's the screeching peep if your metrocard works, and a different screeching peep if it doesn't.
In Stockholm, the subway can seem almost, I dare say, airy. Relatively clean. The elevators do not always smell like stale urine, and an escalator transports you up and down while you stand and contemplate your next fika, never mind the silent green light that okays your journey at the turnstile.
Although, in New York your terrible subway journey might be taking you to Canada Day with a free Feist concert. So, yes, it can be worth it in the end :).
Hey, welcome back. We missed you!
Oh man, it was so great to see you the other night. Can we get together soon? Come to Woodstock; it's peaceful and pretty and we can go for a nice long walk.
Watch your language! Your Mae is retiring in 7 days and I plan to teach her how to tweet ( I don't have anything else to do ).
Your Galoong.
Hey, I feel like when I was learning to CHA CHA CHA. To tweet is cool.
I know how you feel. I just returned to Brooklyn from Pittsburgh (with a quick sojourn in WV in between). I keep thinking "are there always these many people around?" and "where did they all come from?" along with "this apartment is loud."
I love it, but an adjustment period is needed.
Waiiit...you were at Winnie's BLT Party too?? What a small world... I was there too! Ill keep an eye out for you next time. Welcome back to NY!
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