Stairs. I went to NYC and I climbed a lot of stairs. That's the one lasting memory I'll have of the weekend. No, I lie. That's just one of the many lasting memories I'll have of the weekend, especially now that I've learned that I have the strangest ability to remember some of the most random moments from my life when given the right inspiration.
Let's backtrack for a second. I spent the last three days in NYC visiting two of my oldest and closest friends. I've known them since we were all around 3 years old. I hadn't seen either one of them in about a month, but they hadn't seen each other in maybe close to 10 years. So, put all three of us together and every significant and insignificant moment from our lives together came into sharp focus for me, and I related many of them back to my friends as the weekend progressed.
They looked at me sometimes like I had just revealed my ability to recite every line from the movie, Running Scared. I don't blame them. I started to wonder if my current life or even my college life was so boring and uneventful, that I had to hold on to the memories of grade school and high school in order to find meaning in my life. Through one minute of soul searching, I realized that part of being introverted means that you do a lot less talking and a lot more observing. If you ask me about something the next day, I won't remember much. If you ask me about something the next year, or ten years later, my recall seems to be uncanny. Finding out something new about yourself is a sign of a good trip, I'd say.
My base of operations for the weekend were graciously provided by my friend, Kris, who is living near the corner of 74th and Amsterdam, in the Upper West Side. I must admit, I've heard names like the "Village" and the "Lower East Side" for years without having any idea of where they actually existed in the New City of York. This weekend, I actually had to escort myself around the city for a little bit, had to look at a map and make plans, had to rely on myself rather than a guide, and in doing so, gained a glimmer of knowledge concerning the layout of the city.
I also decided that New York wouldn't be a bad place to live (I have an ex-gf who would probably be shocked to read that). I could actually envision myself making my way about the city day after day. The subway was not that scary. The drivers were not that crazy. All of the little shops, like the "Unoppressive, Non-Imperialist, Bargain Book Shop" on Bleecker St. were rather quaint. My only problem with New York now is something that will sadly never change: There are too many Yankees fans. Don't get me started about the A-Rod trade. Damn Evil Empire.
With the exception of one afternoon spent at the Met and one evening spent bowling, the entire weekend revolved around food, drink and conversation. With the exception of Saturday afternoon, most of the weekend was spent shivering on the way to and from someplace warm. Oh, and stairs, don't forget the stairs. The stairs reminded me of dorm life...but at least after gorging myself on beer and food of various sorts, I had the stairs to help me work off some of the weight. Yeah. At least. Yay.
I shouldn't complain. I'm in relatively good shape. The stairs were tedious more than anything else. I did learn this weekend that I'm much more inclined to complain audibly than I ever have been before. No more taking on discomfort with stoic silence. No, I whine. It goes well, with the cheese, after all.
Posted by Mr. Eff on 02/16/2004