Wednesday, April 13, 2011

there and back again...

Every now and then, when things look particularly dire, I doubt whether I'm cut out for this city. I question if I don't belong somewhere else, somewhere where life is - easier. Less expensive, less competitive, less cramped, less crazy. Because New York City is nothing if not those things.

By a stroke of luck and generosity, I got to steal away from the city this past weekend. I got to relax by a pool, take long drives along palm-lined streets, buy cocktails that only cost $5 and hang out in my friend's condo with a walk-in closet.  Phoenix has nearly perpetual sunshine and mall parking lots half the width of Manhattan. Seriously. Oh, and self-serve frozen yogurt. And did I mention all the swimming pools?

All too soon I was on my flight back, trying to ignore my tingling sunburn and the turbulence by concentrating on Esquire's 'Big Black Book' for Spring/Summer 2011. Somehow my mind drifted from the return of double breasted jackets to the reality of returning to the city, and everything awaiting me on West 19th Street. A familiar feeling of frustration and exhaustion started to take over my thoughts. That LCD Soundsystem song started playing in my head, "New York I love you, but you're bringing me down..."

Anyway, I think I must have been asleep the last time I landed in New York, because I would remember this feeling. The plane dipped to the left, and I peered out the windows across the isle just long enough to see almost the whole of Manhattan - it's 3-D skyline jutting upwards towards the stormy skies - fearless, epic, grand, glamorous, (expensive, crazy, cramped, competitive) Manhattan.

I got a surge of goosebumps down my entire body. I smiled into my magazine, and my chest tightened like it does right before a first kiss. I was soaring above the tiny island that feels like it holds all the possibility for everything I have ever wanted in life. It's all there. Here. I wanted to swan dive right out of that Boeing 747.

So okay okay, feeling all verklempt in an airplane doesn't really mean anything. (Except that I'm perhaps a bit of a nervous flier.) But damn if it doesn't at least remind me that I came here to accomplish some things, and by god I'm going to accomplish them.

Alright, now I'm done. I that was just my long-winded way of saying "Hello! I'm back from my lovely vacation in Arizona and I'm raring to go."

We now return you to your regularly scheduled fashion-based blogging schedule...


  1. This was wonderful. Good to know I'm not the only person who gets a tad bit more emotional on flights. There really is something romantic about landing in an exciting place. Sounds like your trip was wonderful and it's great to have you back.

  2. Well wasn't that lovely.