kiwifruit's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I love New York, and C. loves me ... When I was a little girl I wanted to be Annie Hall. Or maybe Mariel Hemingway�s character in �Manhattan�. Okay, so I didn�t realize then that Annie Hall was a bit neurotic, and that maybe, just maybe neurosis isn�t the most attractive of characteristics. Then again, it�s one I seem to have managed to perfect, so go figure � be careful what you wish for I guess. But what I mean to say is this, I was always, always positive that I wanted to end up living in New York. I have loved New York for as long as I can remember. I love the smell of it, the sound of it, the feel of it. I even love the things I hate about it. And I worked my ass off to get here. And I tumbled a few times on my journey here � but now here I am. And still, there are mornings when I am walking to the gym that I stare about in disbelief and joy (or as much joy as a cynical New Yorker can muster). I am here, I think. I am really fecking here. And I wouldn�t want to be any other place in the world. But then there was September 11th. And New York has changed. And I can�t put into words exactly how. I know that personally I want to go around hugging everyone. I�m not sure if it�s because I need to be hugged or because I think they need to be hugged. I know it was silly of me, but somehow I thought when we returned from Italy New York would feel like it used to again. But it doesn�t. It�s not a big obvious change like it was at first, now it�s just a subtle tinge in the air, a look on people�s faces, the omnipresence of American flags and random flyers posted to phone booths. It�s the neighborhood fire station that I walk by every day. There I have to stop and look and try not to cry. Every day I feel like crying, even though I still wake up and hear the traffic, and smell the smell, and feel the beginnings of fall in the air and I still think � I love this place and I am really, really here. Italy, by the way, was amazing. And now I can go to bed at night and know that C. is there next to me and he loves me. They�re just words and it�s silly really, but I gotta say, it felt damn good to hear them from his mouth. And tomorrow I�m 31 years old. Thirty-fecking-old-as-the-hills-one! Ooof you�ve got to be kidding me! La di da. La di da. 6:43 p.m. - 2001-10-04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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