Okay. I get the hint.
I have tried hiding, seclusion, and just plain absence--methods of which only the likes of Bobby Fischer are successful with. Enough people have written and inquired about the lack of entries in the previous months. And honestly, I do not blame them. Thank you for all the emails and joyous reminders that there are still people out there that are awaiting tales of living life in New York City. And be assured that it is time for me to get off my keester to share a bit.
Elizabeth and I are happily married and adjusting to life here. We started by moving in temporarily with my parents in Brooklyn. The word temporary is used in the loose sense where my parents were scheduled for a six month trip to China (retirement must be nice). Meanwhile, Elizabeth and I were to find an apartment of our own somewhere in this metropolis. Unlike the stereotypical view of parents and children, the re-getting-to-know-you has been nice. Mind you, I still got the aggravating how-late-are-you-going-to-be-out-tonight thing, but I also got to see how my folks spent their days again like regular people. In some sort of indescribable miniscule way, I feel like I got to relive a part of my childhood--The part where my parents pampered to my very needs; I'm so spoiled, yes, I know.
Professionally speaking, life as a newly incorporated independent consultant in the Big Apple has been a delight. I wear a tie to work. I carry a leather sidebag which contain important documents such as day old bills which lay waiting for their transportation to a nearby mailbox. It takes me about one hour to commute in each direction into and out of Manhattan. Everyday, I ride an express bus in, walk one short block, stop by the same streetcart on twenty-sixth and Madison exactly at seven forty-seven AM and purchase a large black coffee and raisin bagel with cream cheese from a man named Shalimar. Everyday, he asks how I am doing. Tucking my breakfast under my arm, I cross the street and enter the building where I spend the better part of the day. All of which I thought I would be doing someday when I grew up.
Deja vu -- about three years ago, I was sitting at lunch with a friend of mine named Jose in Rochester talking about this very scenario of what I thought I was going to be when I grew up. I described hustling about New York City, and he responded with a why not? is it too late? why not just go and do it? ...(Wo. I am freaking myself out here.)
A few months have passed and all still seems thrilling, but the novelty has lifted slightly. The weird part is that I feel I have been running at full sprint for the past couple of years and suddenly slowed down, turning my head to finally realize the full distance I have traveled. As strange as it may sound, it seems that I have forgotten what motivated the "running" in the first place. Anyhow, I am not sure if it's due to my marriage to Elizabeth or an impromptu career move, but everything seems more content now and what I am trying to say is it feels good.
A few highlights of the past few months in the city has been as follows: getting an apartment; going furniture hunting; seeing Tom Cruise; buying toys; seeing Woody Allen and Soong Yee; playing with toys; being invited for an on-camera interview (no relation to Woody Allen, nor Tom Cruise...shucks); getting four haircuts; taking in one Broadway play; witnessing the filming of three movies; watching the happiness on Elizabeth's eyes as she partakes in her newfound hobby of shopping; experimenting in different cuisines; partaking in online trading of stocks; and my favorite...getting busted for mix and matching exercise clothes at Syms.
So, bear with me. Times are busy yet interesting and there is much to say. Stay tuned... Don't touch that dial. I will write again soon. Same bat time. Same bat channel.
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