New York Minutes

More than two weeks have passed, and so much more. I love this city, but I miss the mountains. I wonder if I'm just being a little bit of a coward, choosing to go back to what I know, to a life that will certainly be less interesting in some ways but may well be richer in others. Every time I seem to be sure, my certainty slips away like the cool surf on Rockaway Beach, or maybe it jerks away like the swinging motion of the A train driving south from Harlem. I don't always want to wonder what might have happened if I had gotten the big job at the big company, working with big writers on big titles, slaving away in that famous building on a street that's a household name. If a seven-state commute was a possibility, I'd be there (or here) in a heartbeat. I hoped this would be one of those decisions that I could just tick off after I made it. It decided instead to take the trick candle path.

In the past two+ weeks I've eaten much good food at everywhere from Cosmic Cantina (right across the street) to Fiamma, a très chic establishment in Soho. I've seen the Brooklyn Pride parade in a total downpour (fortunately I was inside with some fantastic sangria and even better empanadas), and I've been to a wonderful craft show at the McCarren Park Pool, also in Brooklyn. I've done some shopping, alone and with my maid of honor, and I've gone to the beach. I've been to Sunday afternoon "parlor entertainment" off of 160th Street, and spent evenings in the cheapest (and certainly not the trashiest) bar on 3rd Avenue. I've HopStopped more times than I ever thought I would, and I've joined Shelfari.com.

The best news is that my magazine launch group (the one with the food) won "best launch of the afternoon session," which—according to those people who saw it all—actually means something pretty significant. I've watched a lot of movies and read a lot of magazines. Now that the book segment of the program has begun, I'm getting a lot of free books too. Comments will be posted later.

All this going and doing and living calls for much sleeping. It's difficult to move forward when I always feel like I'm catching up. The beginnings of wrinkles (two of them) are on my forehead,
and I'm too old to sleep when I'm dead.