I walked through my neighborhood tonight, at dusk, with wind, in late summer, and it’s way too perfect.

I planned on staying In tonight, but after I showered, I realized I had forgotten my seltzer (I am addicted. A jewish thing)

I went out in my frayed jeans, falling apart-flip flops, and best of all, my inside-out tank top.

The guy at the bodega asked “Where have you been girlie? I missed you!” because I always stop there to buy seltzer, and I’ve not been around for awhile.

Last night, I railed against my anti-social instinct and went out with a group of Astorians for wing night at one of the local bars. I got to see some of the old timers (and I count myself among them at this point); Laura, Jim, Meg, Tom, and Josh all showed up. Laura and I discussed our dislike of Chicago. Lots of new faces again too. It felt good to rekindle the Astoria-love a little.

Tonight I am thinking of going to a lecture (and I have a choice between two lectures!) but nagging thoughts like how much I need to clean my apartment are holding me back. Which is silly, because cleaning the apartment never takes that long. It’s just thinking about it that makes me slightly nuts.

 When I got home last night, I read something so scary-relevant to one of my situations that it almost made my brain explode. I could write about it, but it’s too soon to tell this story. It’s not a story yet. It’s just an anecdote. Maybe that anecdote will be Chapter One. Maybe it will remain a “potential.” Either way, it makes me think about words on the tip of my tongue and in the back of my throat. 

 Now I must go be productive. I am behind on a project, sort of. I am tired, but somewhat clearheaded. I need to get some caffeine in my system and get some work done.   

I am all over the map this month. Go away, October.

Anyway, my high school friend Joe, who’ve I just recently gotten back in touch with due to the fact that we work across the street from each other and saw each other on the bus all the time when I was briefly commuting from Jersey, agreed to be my date for the black tie event I had to attend for work. He agreed with no begging on my part, just a “Sure, when do I need to be there?” Because old friends are awesome.

I called Lisa up, who i haven’t spoken to in forever, just to tell her about this agreement, and she told me that “This entire ordeal with you being a grown up is too surreal and upsets my always tenuous equilibrium. In addition to Joe’s capacity for predictable decorum, he has also grown up a bit and no longer is our “little Joe.”

Which I relayed to Joe, and he was like “yeah, that’s pretty much accurate.” But for the record, the evening went very well. Joe was exactly the perfect date. He kept me talking throughout whenever it was just the two of us standing around, because anyone from staff was either a) important enough to be schmoozing with donors b) had to work the front door. (I am still not sure why my presence was required…whatever)

He kept me talking which prevented me from wringing my hands, biting my nails, or looking overly awkward. There was massive amount of delicious sushi. I drank too much wine, but that had no ill effects, because we were seated with the scientists, not staff for some reason. This was actually a pretty good situation, as Joe was a physics major in college, and chatted up the science people. I am completely floored by Joe’s ability to seamlessly socialize with various individuals at the table. He kept me from being a nervous wreck. Joe has known me for nearly a decade and thus is familiar with my particular brand of neurosis and was able to balance it well. Ladies, Joe is a total catch, my new mission is to find him a girlfriend.

So the evening went very well and thank god it is over, but also being a grown up is fucking scary. I really think I’m still pretty clueless on the ‘life plan’ level. My job is stable and I like it, and it’s a pretty cool organization (this was just confirmed to me tenfold because of the presentations on Sunday. My organization funds some really awesome work and I should be proud to be a small part of it)

I’m just…I don’t know right now. I feel okay about my job, but I’m not sure where I can go from it in the long run. I know I’ve only been there for two months, but I’m already thinking along the lines of that there is nowhere to really go from where I am and that’s…frustrating. I have my expensive education and it’s like if I ever want to do more than what I’m doing now I’m going to have to go elsewhere.

I may ultimately want something else, even though I should be perfectly grateful with what I’ve got, job and apartment wise, because for another example of how much of a jerk I am, right now I am back at Freeze Peach in the Ditmars area, and as amazingly awesome as my apartment is the location will never be Ditmars….

Most people would say I”m in a better location now, more transportation options, etc, but Ditmars is home. Ditmars feels right. I don’t think my new location ever will feel quite right, and that makes me sad because it is an AWESOME apartment, but I think I’d take back my humble abode on 21st Avenue too.

As I suspected I would, I miss my previous life as an Astorian.  I don’t know what’s next, and I ALWAYS know what’s next. So I”m trying to take a deep breath and go to bed early tonight, because god damnit, I’m a smart girl and I’ll figure this the hell out.

1) When I lived in Astoria from Feb-Sept of 2006, I also always left work at 5:00 PM sharp. Which means I often caught the same exact subway (because contrary to popular belief, there is technically a subway schedule), because there was this very distinctive chatty announcer on the N/W. I think it actually must be the W train, since the N has gone automated. Anyway, today I was taking the N/W home (which I usually don’t. I’m an R train Astorian now) and heard him and his annoucements. It made me happy.

2) I love my apartment, but I don’t think I’ll love the 30th Avenue area as much as I love Ditmars. I’m over in the Ditmars area right now, posting from Freeze Peach. (Say the name fast, the words blending together. That’s where the name comes from). I love this place, not just because it was my home base before I got internet at my old apartment, but because I remember walking by it when we were going over to check out that apartment that became home for nearly 8 months and thinking how home-y it looked.

3) I don’t remember when Rome went to Hawaii, but when he did, he brought me back a touristy piece of volcano rock that is “good luck” or whatever. I thanked him, and tossed it on my desk. It say on my desk at PLI through the best months of my life. And then I moved to Chicago, and that rock was in storage in NJ, and while my life by no means sucked it’s already recorded here what they were. I found that rock when I moved back from Chicago and I thought “what the hell” and threw it in the inside pocket of the bag I carried everyday.

I got the interview that got me my job 3 days later.
I got my apartment a couple weeks after that.

4) I walk a lot in New York, more naturally then anywhere else in the world. Chicago is not nearly as walkable as New York, especially since I was on the border of the Southside and there was the stigma both not to cross the Midway and the fact that the area between Hyde Park and downtown was not good territory to walk through. Anyway, through this I’ve dropped the pants size I gained whilst a grad student, without even trying

5) I got up the guts to talk to a cute boy at the coffee shop last night. We had a good conversation. He has a girlfriend. OF COURSE. But whatever, he loves Boston and can’t wait to move back there and we all know how I feel about Boston

6) A lot of things at work clicked today. I don’t know why. They just clicked.

7) I had dinner with a few Astorians friends a few nights ago. Dinner was delicious and it was good to see a few Astoria faces. I love that a site like this exists. When I tell my other NYC friends about this, they don’t get it, because it is very rare to know people in your neighborhood. We are an amazing and awesome community.

I just love Queens. I don’t know what it is about this borough that makes me love it so much, or at least, I can’t articulate it, but every neighborhodd I visit here, I love.

9) Since being back, I’ve not been a lot of my favorite places in New York. Goal next week: I’m going to the Strand, see if they have the copies of the Stories of Civilization Series that I covet, and just go to the area, since I’ve not been there in awhile. I don’t neccesarily like the Union Square area, but it reminds me of being a new transplant to the city, and following Charice to Strand way back when

It is so amazingly good to be home. I can’t stop saying that.

There’s this Dar Williams song “Iowa” in which the chorus is “Iowa” all the syllables dragged out” and the way in which the syllables are emphasized means “Astoria” could easily be subsituted. Given that I spent most of my 8th grade year writing parodies/other versions of songs, I could probably come up with something for Astoria

So my new apartment may not be in the Ditmars area of Astoria (one of my favorite place in the world, possibly…) but it’s on a good block just off of 30th Avenue, where laundry is less than a block away and the supermarket it a 3 minute walk, and the apartment is amazing. Hello, BOOK ROOM. Although, not all my books will be there immediately. I have over 2000 books. Moving books is a pain. But I am so happy to be back in Astoria.

On Thursday, I went to the monthly Astorians gathering, and saw some old faces and also got introduced to a bunch of new people, since the Astorians board has exploded in popularity since I left. What was awesome was getting several “oh, you’re back from Chicago?!?. Welcome back!” It’s such a neighborhood here. I love that I have a community to come back to.

When I was looking for apartments the first time, I didn’t have a neighborhood in mind; I simply replied to every Craigslist ad in my price range. That was when I learned that finding an apartment through the room/share section meant going on “roommate interviews” which are way worse than job interviews. It was terrible. When I had to start doing it again this time, I wanted to shoot myself. When I was 22 I could sort of tolerate it, even though almost everyone was older than me, I was used to being around college students and their drama. At 24, having worked a year in NYC, and survived my year at Chicago, I could not do it. I could not suck up to people in hopes of finding a room.

So I posted this ad in the “Housing Wanted” section of Craigslist for a roommate to apartment hunt with, basically saying “I am sick of roommate interview drama. We’ll probably annoy each other sometimes, but lets just be civil adults and find a place.”

And so I met current-roommate, who instinct says I can live with. Seriously, we sat down together, hashed things out, and we’re cool on multiple things. We found an amazing apartment together. Seriously! The place is 10 million times better than my run down apartment on the other end of Astoria. I am going to miss living in the Ditmars area, but I think this neighborhood can feel like home too.

Tonight, I am once again at my parent’s house in Jersey, unearthing my possessions from storage, because I have found permanance. I’m going to be at this apartment for quite awhile. So I can finally pull my books out of my old bookcase, bring my photo albums from under my old bed, take my old nightstand, because it won’t be needed here. I like the fact that this place has long term potential.

So tomorrow! Driving out to Astoria with my dad, with bookcases, and buying him lunch. My dad is awesome and his attitude makes me be unstressed about moving, generally. Then 3 day week (again) due to Jew holidays at work. Then getting furniture delivered, and bringing the rest of the stuff to the apartment next Thursday/Friday.

When I say I’m going to do something, I do it.

A year ago,  it was my last weekend in the city before I left for grad school. Last summer, as I have stated before, I reveled in the romanticism of being an unhindered 20-something in the city. I was empowered. More than ever, I was breaking out of old habits. The term social butterfly was tailor made for me, last summer. I loved my life, and I spent the last weekend celebrating, and trying not to get too sad over the fact that once I left things would never be the same. The Astorians threw me a party the Friday before I left. Saturday night was a mish-mash of old friends, PLI-ers, misc. people and unexpected guest. Sunday was choice encounters with Jill-IAN, and then Astorians. It was a perfect weekend to cap off a perfect summer.

Of course, I’m also realistic enough to know that one of the reasons last summer was so amazing because I knew it was temporary. I wouldn’t have “lived my life like a dream” if it wasn’t. (I’m quoting the REM song “Leavng New York” song there, which I listened to 12 million times) I don’t expect to have a summer like that anytime soon, because the last comprable one was seven years prior.

So it’s not wonder that after that summer, I crashed when I got to Chicago, and felt like the rug had been pulled out from under my feet and panicked. If I stayed in New York, I never could have sustained such perfection and wonderfulness and etc, and I know that. But it still sucked to get to UChicago and not automatically be thrilled and happy and exhilirated with the opportunity to be studying with brilliant people. Things even went pretty well and I was being relatively social and stuff, but I just didn’t CARE about most of my classes.

I was a pretty big mess the first quarter. And I just didn’t care enough about school; that’s what made me start to realize a PhD was not for me. I knew on the surface level that it was pretty awesome that my thesis advisor was a famous expert on the subject, but really? It didn’t matter to me. I didn’t “take advantage of the opportunity.” I just did what I needed to do, and that was enough for me. The best thing I could do for myself was throw myself into my thesis and get the hell out of there. And it worked. I graduated in June like I wanted to. I have no regrets about how I handled the year. I am so grateful to be out of Chicago, because I felt like I was suffocating there.

Now, a year after I left, I have my Masters and I have a job (this time, one I actually want.) and I can’t wait to get back to Astoria. I was sitting on the N train, waiting to pull out of the Ditmars station and its just  beautiful. Hell Gate Bridge in the background, cars rushing down the Triborough in the foreground, and signs in four different languages and there is just no way this will ever not be an awe inspiring view to me. This may sell me out on ever being a “true New Yorker” (how deep do Jersey roots run?) but I may as well enjoy it, because every time I travel out to Astoria, I’m anxious to get there, and when i step out of the subway station, I feel home.

I was not panicked when I left New York a year ago, because I knew it was “the right thing to do.” To turn down a scholarship to an MA program at UChicago would have been “irrational.” I still don’t feel it was the wrong decision, because I don’t feel I’ve lost anything by going. And sure, I’m probably romanticizing how awesome its going to be to move back to Astoria and get back into my life there and in the city. But whatever it is, I’m happy its happening. I’m happy things have gone this way.

I miss New York more than words can say right now. Specifically Astoria, the N, the East River, and the stupidly perfect life I threw away for stupid grad school. Which I suppose is kind of bi-polar considering my last entry, but screw U Chicago, screw academia, and screw Carl Schmitt.

I want to be back in Astoria, living mere blocks from the view in my icon. I should not be pathetically crying because I recognize Queens scenery on TV, I should BE there.

I still want to write all about Saturday night, but this is what’s on my mind, so it gets preference.

Cary called me around 8:30 “Are you done packing?” she asked.
“Um…somewhat…,” I replied
“Well are you too busy to have coffee with us?”
“Absolutely not, what time?”

So Cary, Dayna, and I met up at Freeze Peach and then migrated to Igloo for food. We chatted about the board, of course, because you can’t get together with Astorians without discussing “the Board.” (The whole “I feel like I’m dating 35 people” thing is definitely true. It’s like so many of us hang out, on an increasingly regular frequence, but it’s always in a group, so there are a lot of mildly awkward one on one interactions. It’s a bizarre development of community) and AG, and men, of course.

I’ve never really had groups of girlfriends before, and that’s what was really developing for me among the Astoria girls…I’m going to miss them; we’ve had a lot of fun together.

So we hugged Cary good-bye and Dayna and I headed home (we live three blocks from each other) and we ran into Josh. I am really, really going to miss living somewhere where I am constantly running into people I know. I love the walks up 21st Avenue with Dayna — we are always “getting home safe” companions, and she remarked that she loves the walks home because it’s so peaceful, and I said I would miss the independence of being able to come home alone and not worry. Southside Chicago may not allow that.

I’m going to miss Astoria, and Astorians, and Astoria girls. This is the most amazing community ever.

When I was counting down the days left at Skidmore, I had plenty of down time to write. Now I have even more to write about and no time to write.

Off the top of my head, without eloquence

My Astorians party on Friday was relatively low-key. We took over Hell Gate’s Social again, brought in lots of food and ordered pizza (I will miss New York pizza.) A lot of people showed up; I felt very popular. Sooz made me an awesome card, the front of which is laminated google-map directions from Hyde Park to Astoria. I got an Astoria Hell Gates shirt — I love that bridge. We took lots of pictures. There was much girl talk among the usual Astoria ladies. I am going to miss this community more than I can put into words. It’s been an amazing experience. Ok Rousseau I GET IT.

Last night was PLI people and random people and O-town people and people I hadn’t seen in a really long time, and at one point Jill-IAN was like “Jesus Neumsy, who ARE all these people?” because I had been fretting about people not showing up and looking like a loser. Everyone was buying me drinks, and I got to talk to everyone and didn’t take enough pictures, and I think I managed to not be too emotional, although I think I hugged everyone about 19 times. I will write about it later.

I have lots of boxes. My head is swimming.

I never, in my whole life, thought I would be the type of person who warranted throwing two separate going away parties. At one point last night I pulled Jill-IAN and Drew aside, and was just like “You guys have been one of the best things about New York and I love you a lot.” 

I cannot put this into words. This is so freaking cliched, but I seriously don’t know how to say all this. I am basically overcome with emotion.

Another great night. I love my friends. I love the Astorians. (There’s a Ven diagram needed somewhere in here) I am so not getting to bed early. 

This all ends in less than a week. I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m ready for this. Blah, blah, blah ‘sometimes you have to take a step before you’re ready. Because if you wait to be ready, you’ll never take that step.” 

The sense of danger must not disappear: 
The way is certainly both short and steep, 
However gradual it looks from here; 
Look if you like, but you will have to leap. -Auden