New York Mornings

Everyone’s always said that you have a love/hate relationship with New York: you either love it, or love to hate it.
I beg to differ. My two years in NYC were filled with music & laughter, heartbreaks, losses, gains, and the most amazing people I could ask for. While I wasn’t in my element in the City, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Some days I miss New York more than most, and when that happens, I turn to the bittersweet melodies of Elbow’s New York Mornings, to remind me of the experiences & love I had for that city.

Dear New York, 
You haven’t seen the last of me. 
I’ll be back.
Love, 
E

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New Year, New Chapter

2014 had more ups & downs than a soap opera, but then again, so does life. After all, what would we do if everything was just as predictable as an old rerun of Happy Days?
There was always a light at the end of the tunnel (thanks Third Day), even though I had no idea what was in store for me afterwards. December saw me finally complete the academic rat race that I’ve been running for the past six years, when I completed the final courses and graduate portfolio that fulfilled the requirements for my Masters of Library & Information Science from Pratt Institute. Soon after that, I flew home for an extended holiday as I recharged and threw myself into the job hunt full time.

During the holidays, I was able to pull myself away and focus on the uncertain path ahead. I’d never quite planned past getting my graduate degree, so for the first time in my life, I was directionless. The idea terrified me, and the feeling of being completely untethered to any sort of goal or endgame unnerved me to the Nth degree. However, God blessed my life with amazing, wise, & understanding parents, and a sweet sister who were willing to help me through the murky process of creating a solution, however temporary.

This brings me to the whole reason for this novelesque post: I’m moving away from New York City, and back to the Midwest for an unforseen amount of time. This decision was deliberated carefully, and honestly, debated hotly. However, over the past few weeks, thanks to the clear head of my parents, & a nice stock of whiskey,  I’ve come to terms with the fact that my time in New York is at an end.

My flight back to New York is January 24, and I’ll take a few days to pack & ship my clothes & books, and say my goodbyes. As LCD Soundsystem says, New York, I love you, but you’re bringing me down. I always knew that my endgame was never to live in New York, but over the past two years, the Big Apple has carved out a niche in my heart all its own.

To all of the amazing people I’ve had the blessing to meet, you guys have changed my life, and have become a permanent part of it.
I’ll always be DCH4Life & a Waterbaby, and dragonboat is forever in my blood (and on my arm). I won’t stop working in hopes I’ll find myself in a boat again (along with those really weird tan lines).
DCH 2014

To my wonderful roommates, MJ and Wendy, you guys have become like sisters to me more quickly than I thought possible. I can’t believe how lucky I was to find such amazing women quite literally overnight. We took an empty apartment & made it ours, and if there was any way feasible for me to still live with  you guys anywhere in the US, I would.
I can’t possibly name every amazing person that I have the privilege of having in my life because of New York, but the memories (hazy or no) will always be with me.
The happy hours, the road trips, the weeks with only $5 to last you til Friday, the late night tattoos on St. Marks, street meat at all hours of the day (or night), and somehow being able to navigate traffic with a full cup of coffee, bagel, phone, & laptop case in hand…with the occasional umbrella (I’m still not sure how I did that)- they’ll all be missed, and there is no way they can be replaced.
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sleep nyc tuesday

times square morning 10170819_10152316114676291_2041918772877260276_n

Who knows, perhaps I’ll end up back on the East Coast someday, but til then, keep it classy, New York. You’ll always have a portion of my heart.

Living in New York made me realize something:

I don’t like streamlines. I don’t like modern.
Yes, they’re bitching on cars, machines, tech, etc., but buildings? Architecture? Stay away from that, bitches.
Give me the eves and gables, the railings that will rot out and give you splinters.
Give me the stairs that creak when you’re sneaking downstairs for a midnight snack.
Leave the swoops and dives of the roof, those peaks that are perfect for balancing on at midnight to watch the stars.
Keep your round corners and wide concrete balconies.
Present me with the nooks and crannies where creatures lurk at night, and where a good book waits during the day.
Design me a house that is a bitch to paint, with corners and angles that are fucking impossible to keep spotless.
Take away your rooms of only glass, and build me a room from an oak forest where I can get lost in a sea of ink.
Give me the attic that has all of your past tucked away in boxes, just waiting for that rainy day and trips down memory lane.
The creaks and moans of old pipes and joints are a soundtrack to be revered. Just listen and the house will tell you its story, if you’re silent enough.
Let the wind sigh through the windows and under the cracks of doors, chilling your feet and hands, pushing you closer to your lover and further under the covers.

Keep your steel, your avant garde, your glass and concrete and bleached, stale, white paint.
Give me your ancient, your worn, those long forgotten rambling wood homes that have more stories hidden in their walls than an entire library.
Let me find shelter beneath a roof that’s covered a thousand heads, supported by walls that have known sorrow and joy, birth and life, celebrations and mournings and parties and quiet evenings alone.
leave your future at the doorstep, and bring your history to me.
In the past is where we find inspiration. The future is only a distorted reflection.