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.

“I’ll put it this way — my life continues to be amazing. Not because it’s so good, or so perfect, or so easy, or so obvious, or so filled with excitement. But because things continue to just happen, all the time, that aren’t the things I necessarily would have expected. And whether or not that makes any sense, it’s a very good thing. A good way for a life to be.”

Ok, life? Is amazing tonight in a way that is beyond words and so for now I just leave the evidence that I wish I could be brilliant eloquent about tonight

It’s like, I moved here in the middle of an overdramatic break up and grad school rejections and this community was so welcoming and immediately made me feel home and like I had a place here. It some how came around that I had just gotten out of a relationship at one of my first Astoria events, and got the typical comments And then at the end of the evening, Lia put her hand on my arm and was like “Your ex boyfriend is an idiot. You’re lovely.”

And she totally didn’t have to say that, and it was so sweet and bonus for the use of lovely.

This was a good weekend. A really good weekend.

Billy Joel!!! Tonight!!!

Floor seats, Row 7!!!

CK just sauntered into work — on time for once — and raised his fist in a show of Jersey solidarity. We wished each other a Happy Transit Strike; “man, I know this must suck for most New Yorkers, but if you’re from Jersey, it feels like a Holiday!”

I was coming in from Bloomfield this morning, and my train to Penn Station was late. Penn Station was a mess, and there were swarms of people on the street. And then I hit Times Square and it was like ‘Where did all the people go?’ I think a lot of people stayed home, maybe, or are just late, because the streets seemed pretty quiet north of Times Square. It could stand to be a few degrees warmer and I wish I didn’t have a cold, but it is indeed a very Happy Transit Strike.

CK and I are both ridiculously smug about our unaffected commutes, because there is much bitching and moaning at the office. Even if NJ Transit were to strike, there’s private competition in Jersey and still would be ways of getting to work. Jersey is the best. NYC liberalism + common sense conservatism. I am so, so sad that I am going to be moving out of JC.

Although I am distressed to hear Christmas music where ever I go, I realized today, that this is the first time in eight years that I am not working some type of retail. No free turkeys, no eggnog lattes, and no hearing Xmas music for 10 hours straight. Now THAT is something to be thankful for.

This year, I am thankful once again for the immense amount of love I
have in my life, my wonderful friends and family, The Will, and for the
freedom to just let go.

I am thankful for the success of the Great-NYC-Job-&-Apartment
search, the view from my balcony, the cacaphony of Midtown in the
morning, and the walks home.

And I am thankful for the 365 chances to start over again on the right foot.

I have a rather long entry to write, for several reasons, but I don’t have time right now, and don’t know when the words will be there.

So Three Things. Real Quick.

It was a fabulous, wonderful weekend marred only by the fact that I am returning to work instead of to school. I’ve been out of school for EIGHT MONTHS people, EIGHT MONTHS. Oh well, I’ll be going back at this time next year.

Laura was here visiting her brother, and though she was crunched for time, I got to see her on Thursday, which was lovely as always. We talked and talked, and went to Strand (I’m addicted), and I led her around like a blind lamb to slaughter. It’s only fair – I feel as if I’m carrying on a tradition, of sorts, as I was led around like a lamb to slaughter last summer. (Sebastian, you’re next!). I forget how much I miss her, even if she has become a liberal hippie. We hugged good-bye in the 14th Street Station and went back and forth like typical girls and made plans for my visit to Saratoga next month.

Friday at work, we were all pretty hostile because we weren’t getting a half day like everyone else on the planet, but it was quiet, and most of us were just wasting time online all day. After work I went out with some co-workers for awhile, came home, and read until Michael called.

I met up with Mike’s friend Iwho lives in SoHo. We drank beer whilst waiting for Michael to arrive and talked politics and books and made fun of Mike (who was an hour and a half late) Mike arrived and I bought a round of shots and we toasted to something, I don’t remember. Anyway, there was much merriment and I didn’t get home until 4 AM.

Saturday, Michael and I had quality time, lunch, sitting in Washington Square Park watching the NYU freshman (which I could write a book on in and of itself, it brought back so many weird memories), good-good conversation, stumbling into a table of political philosophy books, wandering aimlessly. We met up with Xina and her boy at the country music bar on the Upper East Side, and it was a fabulous time.

Sunday was recovering from Saturday’s antics

Monday, I went out to Rockaway Beach, which was lovely. It’s no Jersey Shore, but it’s okay. So I got a sunburn on the quintessential last day of summer, but it was just a really relaxing day, and I read a lot, and thought about the summer in my usual reflective way.

And now I’m back at work, and envious of those starting a new semester. Not because I miss college necessarily, but because I miss academia, and I belong in school. I was flitting around Washington Square Park, declaring “I’m enamored with this area, I want to go to school here!” but I worry about NYU’s Poli-Sci program. It’s…limited, to say the least, and while they do have a strong history department, I don’t really want a history PhD.

I am getting more and more serious about going to school in Texas. I mean, clearly I’m not quite cool enough for Manhattan, so why not go to Texas where every bar plays country music? And meet me a nice Southern Gentlemen. (To quote the favorite professor “Uck, forget about New York boys”) Although Brent was teasing that I am not graceful and refined enough to fit in down there. My take is I’ll be the vulgar Yankee girl. I’ll be a novelty. And I do know how to niche market.