Sunday, February 23, 2014

A long December... and January and February

So much has happened.

With that said, every task has to start somewhere. I have so much to write about Asia, and boyfriend and I's little transitional trek around the US, and now about the wondrous beauty that is New York City. But, I think I'll go backwards and start now. Then, I can peel back the missing time over the summer (and I say summer because it is literally going to take me all summer to write out the adventures in Asia...I just hope that I will remember all the really special ones at least).

I'm living in Brooklyn - with this wonderful little lady. At a stop off the Q/B train named Sheepshead bay. Sheepshead is a type of fish believe it or not. And my apartment is near the beach. I can smell it just a bit - but I haven't walked there yet. Maybe tomorrow.

I like using the word "train" to talk about the NYC subway system. That's what the locals call it. Appropriate, because it is a train. I wonder where the word subway came from, really. Subterranean I guess...but so many of the subways are above ground. Regardless, I have now added "jumping on the train" and "the __ stop off the __ train" to my vocabulary. It feels good. For years, I've said New York was my favorite place. Well, except Diego...but that's different. Diego is my beveled tumbler glass that holds the perfect amount of pepsi and milk to quench my thirst but keep me from burping. New York is an Irish Imperial pint glass that holds plenty for a buzz and a long conversation about Saturn, or the Evil Dead. It's just huge, and fun.

I love the pizza, and the sky. The other night it was perfect prussian blue. I mean, squirted from the tube. People say you miss the stars in big cities, but can I tell you what the sky looks like without one single star? How can you not dare to be different when that vast emptiness is glaring down at you every evening. I just want to fill it up with hope and ideas. I imagine it's a mirror sometimes and everyone here can see everyone here and they are all interesting. There are no boring people in New York. If you keep your ears and eyes peeled, you'll have a new story to tell just about every single day. I could be Basquiat tomorrow. Why not make art on the street? Everything else happens there.

I feel very blessed to have been all the places I've been. But I feel the most blessed to be here, right now. On the verge of the next steps in my life.

Spoiler Mushy Alert -- beware if sentimentally irritable
And can I just throw in how absolutely wonderful my boyfriend is? We are living apart right now. He is staying in DC since it's so much cheaper. But, there's a bus that's as low as $3 going back and forth. It doesn't even matter that much. He's supporting me and loving me and our relationship is so much stronger than I thought possible. I can feel his hand on my lower back when I walk through the big doors to big office buildings to interview for big fancy companies. I can feel his shoulder when I sleep. Honestly, I miss my puppy dog more than him just because it feels like he's still with me everyday. I really don't know what I've done in this life or the last to deserve all this happiness - but I am so grateful. I close my eyes and see him old with silver hair and ornery like his papa and sweet like his gramps and nurturing like his auntie and so so fun just like his mom. He's a puzzle of pieces of wonderful people that I'm so glad to know. I can't even wait to know him later. Today, tomorrow, in 30 years - the most interesting and beautiful person. He's also turning 26 this week. He hates his birthday and I'm the poorest I've been in my adult life right this moment, so we aren't making a big deal about it. I made him a special card with a little cactus cartoon we made up together in the flat Arizona desert on a 10 hour drive that felt like 15 minutes of great conversation.

An imagined birthday for my love: We are walking through the street of some small town in the middle of some small country in the middle of nowhere, seeing the world as we so long to do. I find a little figurine of no special importance and pick it up. A strong man from centuries ago, before man had numbers and companies and papers to push. He had to be the backbone for his people - a hunter who's strength and intelligence took down every beast. I will decide this strong man is a small version of you. A provider. Much later once the trials of life and the hurtles of years have passed - I am 87 in my little apartment getting around with the aches of age but all the joys of life. I will have a collection of things on a shelf from the places I've been and the moments I want to remember. Right in the front, you will be there. Providing your strength for me for all of my life.

Stay tuned friends, there is much to say.
xox Ellie