Coming and Going
Last week I found out that one of my best friends from college is moving to the city in two weeks. This occurred in true Alli friend fashion, via voice mail message about two weeks ago. "Alli, I'm in the City. Just looked at a place. I might move in three weeks."
Done.
I love my nutcase friends.
We're already doing some networking for her.
Tonight I found out that one of my "friends" (a make-out buddy from a while back) is moving OUT of the City, which reminds me of a Sex and the City episode when Samantha says something along the lines of (or verbatim), "I always wonder why people leave New York. I mean, where do they go?!"
In this instance the "friend" is moving to Los Angeles. LOS ANGELES. After I fell out of my chair and wiped a tear I made a bar suggestion. And a restaurant suggestion. And then I felt another soul die.
I spent Sunday night with another friend of mine who is in town. "Move here," I said. "No job. Otherwise I would," he replied.
Now, I realize I am an insane person who tends to move thousands of miles at the drop of a hat with no guarantee of income, and I guess only a sane person would move to New York with a promise of a job and income. Rationally, I try to think.
But it happened to be one of those glorious New York nights where you meet at some bar, have a drink too many too early, stumble into a sex shop, read the Times on a street corner, then find $2 dumplings and eat them in a random park with newfound friends on a 70 something degree night before going to a bar where you play skee-ball, take a cab home, pass out and wake up the next morning, brew a pot of coffee, sit on your stoop and read the New Yorker.
Hello, perfection, my name is Alli.
I've tried to be a good girl lately and step back and not demand that people articulate exactly what they want. Sometimes it takes a while to figure that out. But when you live the circumstances listed above HOW CAN YOU SAY NO?!
This is the greatest city in the world. Hands. Down.
This is the place where people move in no time. Or perhaps they leave in no time. But the latter, those people are the real insane ones.
Done.
I love my nutcase friends.
We're already doing some networking for her.
Tonight I found out that one of my "friends" (a make-out buddy from a while back) is moving OUT of the City, which reminds me of a Sex and the City episode when Samantha says something along the lines of (or verbatim), "I always wonder why people leave New York. I mean, where do they go?!"
In this instance the "friend" is moving to Los Angeles. LOS ANGELES. After I fell out of my chair and wiped a tear I made a bar suggestion. And a restaurant suggestion. And then I felt another soul die.
I spent Sunday night with another friend of mine who is in town. "Move here," I said. "No job. Otherwise I would," he replied.
Now, I realize I am an insane person who tends to move thousands of miles at the drop of a hat with no guarantee of income, and I guess only a sane person would move to New York with a promise of a job and income. Rationally, I try to think.
But it happened to be one of those glorious New York nights where you meet at some bar, have a drink too many too early, stumble into a sex shop, read the Times on a street corner, then find $2 dumplings and eat them in a random park with newfound friends on a 70 something degree night before going to a bar where you play skee-ball, take a cab home, pass out and wake up the next morning, brew a pot of coffee, sit on your stoop and read the New Yorker.
Hello, perfection, my name is Alli.
I've tried to be a good girl lately and step back and not demand that people articulate exactly what they want. Sometimes it takes a while to figure that out. But when you live the circumstances listed above HOW CAN YOU SAY NO?!
This is the greatest city in the world. Hands. Down.
This is the place where people move in no time. Or perhaps they leave in no time. But the latter, those people are the real insane ones.
posted by AllDeTime at 9:25 PM
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