Well this was more like it! Humidity levels are still shockingly low for June in NY, but we got heat! Still, despite wearing my little puma tennies with no socks, I have not yet gotten a single blister. Very unusual.
For some reason this trip New York feels faster and louder and more smoggy. Dirt cakes in between toes and lines the inside of my nose like some kind of black rubber cement. It seems smoggier and hazier. And I am just not a sound shopper like my sister. Albeit, she found Sak's Fifth Avenue and Lord & Taylor's a bit overwhelming, still, she has far more stamina than I do.
I remember the fascination with the "it brands" of my day. Esprit and Guess Jeans and such. I remember begging my father to buy me outfits he considered too pricy and feeling mortified when the popular, rich girls at school knew I shopped at the cheap stores and were happy to point it out. But that's so long behind me now. I wear what I like and what is comfortable. So what's "in fashion" rarely appeals to me, and more so, I see the machinery at work in a way that my sister can't...I really don't blame her--it's a strange pressure on kids to be cool and hip. She's all about brands that mean nothing to me, and which are not cheap to boot: Juicy Couture, Seven Jeans, Lacoste. The worst part is, the 80s really are coming back in fashion. I don't get it! Those dumb polo shirts and everything with thick cuffs and bad stripes and garish colors. Loafers and madras designs and little childish prints. It's awful.
I'm not doing a good job of being here now. I just crave California. There are moments throughout the day that are worthwhile, and the sheer pleasure of taking a trip with my sister the likes of which we've never done before and who knows if we will again, outweighs much of the bad.
But the truth is, I'm a homebody and home is where I want to be sharing with and loving on my husband and my kitty; fixing up my novel for my agent (those words are still strange in my head. "MY" agent...); finishing my Writer's Digest book, walking to the farmer's market behind my house, and gosh, most of all: swimming. I so desperately want to go back to swimming.
So though my change purse does say "I heart NY", I'm thinking maybe I heart CA right now a whole lot more.
JPR
posted by Jordan E. Rosenfeld @ 7:40 PM
3 comments
3 Comments:
Between the past and the future is life.
I bet there have been many times when you wanted to be in NY. Now you are in NY but you crave for California.
You wanted to have time with A. but you didn't and now you have.
Maybe you could forget about other places other people or other times and just be here and now?
Easy to say, hard to do... but that's my wish from here.
Ah, your last post reminded me of my youthful, girlish past in the steamy streets of NYC... but that was another time, another me, another story completely. Now I'm slowly turning into an old, old man. A few weeks away from being closer to sixty than I am to twenty. How freaky is that? You want humid days? Come to New Hampshire, lady. We got ya humid.
Actually, as the father of a seven year old, your last post made me want to stick my daughter in a convent until she's thirty, or until I'm dead, whichever comes first.
And, last but not least. Congrats on the agent. This must be your time, hippy chick. My best...
Patricia: Oh I am enjoying my sister. I never really want to be in NY; I come for the people here, more than anything. I've had a lot of time in NY due to my travels to Vermont.
I wish I was doing a better job of being here now, but the truth is, I haven't been, and I just have to accept that fact.
Clark:
Yes, well, I'm all ears about your girlish past! The hair kind of gave it away :) I'm not even a mother but I have felt insanely protective of my sister here. It's rough. A warning to men: If a girl looks under 21, she's probably under 18. Significantly under. Cast your eyes off!
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