new york state of mind

A few years ago, a dusty old sketch of a dream I'd had since age 14 crept up and popped a balloon behind my head and said breathily: IT IS TIME. Move to New York.

This cover honored the election of President Obama. I started reading the New Yorker at age 14, and will for the rest of my life.

I then experienced a painful bout of Dreamus Interruptus.

Love of Manhattan, New York & the Eastern Seaboard has been brewing in me forever, and my dream was to live there, preferably in a brownstone (not realizing they cost just north of eleventy zillion dollars), for a good solid chunk of my adult life. But I had such a sense of wanting to do it right, to not become one of those people New York reputedly 'eats alive' or otherwise defeats, that I hung back. I know what I'm like: Impetuous. Imprudent. Impulsive & undisciplined in a number of ways. All these terrible flaws. And they've become chronic in the wake of many seriously frustrating, obstacle-strewn attempts to fix them. So I've always said, 'Not yet. Go someplace else, try [there] or [there] in the meantime'.

But roughly three years ago, I said, right, enough of that bullshit. Go be where you want to be, now. Can't do it 'right' & 'smart'? Then do it wrong & stupid. But DO IT. You jump in and figure things out like everything else. You've attached some precious or sacred status to this particular dream - shake it off, lest it stay ensconced in your imagination for eternity. GO.

I was still in L.A. at this time, being a tour guide. I managed to save $2875 toward this dream, a month away from $3000, when the trembling economy took its nosedive. Tourist action slowed to a trickle and their tips were slim to none. I had to start using that savings. It didn't take long for it to *poof* to nothing. Heartbroken & sullen, I hung my failed head and went home to Seattle to lick my wounds. It's now been 18 months and change since I stepped off that airplane, and I've struggled hard just to get back on my feet. In fact, I'm still wobbling. But last week, in the fourth or fifth day of a numb, dense emotional fog, a flare shot up: New York. Remember?

I took the sketch of this dream off the shelf and started filling it out a second time. I got excited. I felt relieved with a sense of something meaningful to look forward to. A sense of greater purpose re-infused my moments, no more simply struggling for a slow gain of inches here at home. I caught new fresh breath. So now I'm brainstorming plans. I'm writing stuff down. I'm looking at the New York Craigslist and hunting hungrily (rather than trudging half-assed) for more hours right here right now at home so I can save money again. I'm deciding on departure dates, wanting it not to be too far off, yet giving myself enough time to stuff my pockets fairly well. I have no clue what I'm doing. Whatever, no matter. The wheels are in motion and my new war cry is:

I <3 NY

LET'S DO THIS THING.

Thanks as always for reading :D