Living in New York has taught me a lot of things so far – like how to take a zombie’s head clean-off with a shotgun, or how to trap and cook rat when your paycheck runs out 3 days after you get it. But all-in-all it has taught me how to be single.
You see, every time the weekend rolls around I typically look for something to do during the day. At first I used to look for something at night too, but that has gradually gotten better as I actually get invited out now (well, most of the time anyway). But being single in Manhattan can get pretty old as when you want to say, go to a movie, the zoo, a museum, a jazz show, whatever, you have to do it alone. I even find myself walking to places just because it will take up more time that I’m not just sitting in my apartment flipping through the channels for
Felicity reruns some kind of sport.
I’m sure most of you know what I’m talking about and it’s not a strictly New York thing for sure. Just moving to a new city it takes time to make those really good friends. You know, that person you can call just to hang up on because you think it’s funny. Or the other person you know you can ask to do anything because their mind is just as numb as yours and they just want to get out of their apartment too.
This weekend I’m headed home. It’s a good friend’s birthday and, well, $1 for a mixed drink just kind of makes life a little sweeter (if not blurry). I’ve also got some buddies of mine from my studio in undergrad who also enjoy drinking – and sure, my parents are there too (just kidding Dad).
Anyway, this post was supposed to be about how nice and weird it is to see green and trees and mountains everywhere when I head home from the city. I guess it got kind of sentimental. But whatever. At least I didn’t resort to another Jesus and Satan dialogue.