Random Musings - New York ain't so bad!

So -

I dragged my sister out of bed to take me to the bus stop at 5am (sorry, Vanya) only to embark on a 4 hour journey back to the city. Yes, the city of Manhattan. I've been ho-hum lately about my recent placement here, but I'm realizing it has very little to do with NYC itself and everything to do with slightly more internal issues. And thus, I decided to have a happy outlook today. And it seems to be going well. Honestly.

I slept for much of the ride, but woke up right around the second circle of hell known as the Turnpike north of Newark/Kearny. You know...where it gets all eff-ed up? Yeah. There. So, I decide to turn on the iPod and tune out the ticking second hand on my watch that is practically screaming that I will not be in the city before 10am like I had hoped. Okay, so...nothing I can do about that, I supposed. Yup, let's allow Sia, Bjork, Wolf Parade, and Jay-Z/Kanye to wash over me. Transport me to a place where time stands still and I forget that I have anything to forget in the first place.

Then, while psyching myself up to the new Sia/David Guetta song "Titanium" I realize - "Ugh!! My butt has reached Numb-ville." But I shake it off. Literally - I move from side to side until it wakes from its inconvenient slumber. And I'm right back in my happy place.

Once there, I start to ruminate on more important things than how much it's going to cost to pay for my weekend parking at Secaucus Junction while I was in DC, like the fact that a total stranger has been sitting next to me for about three and a half hours, and I have no idea what his name is. I know he has an iPhone, and that he's wearing shorts with a hoodie and a jacket (are you hot or cold, sir?), but that's about it. I don't know where he's from, why he's headed to New York, if he's happy, sad, excited, or what. I suppose it could be true that even if I had asked, he may not want to disclose any of that information with me, but did I even try?

Well, unfortunately no. And it made me sad. I used to be such a social butterfly, even in the most awkward moments. I'm still a butterfly...flitting around the room, any room (you give me four walls, and I flit), but I have allowed myself to flit less in more circumstances. That makes me sad.

Then I realized I'm supposed to be in my happy place. So I snapped out of it.

But, I couldn't help but wonder if New York had done this to me. Or was it living in Philly? No, it couldn't have been Philly, because I was still a talkatoo-cockatoo down there. Then it hit me...it was my perception of New York that I was allowing to stifle me. That and several new observations about my daily life that have left me feeling trapped (but those are works in progress, nothing major, no worries). But this perception thing got me thinking.

We finally make it through the Lincoln Tunnel, and the bus winds its way to 28th St, and I'm trying to build up the courage to talk to the guy next to me if only for the last 3 minutes of this bus ride. It turns out he's visiting a cousin in the city and he's only been here a couple of times. He also was supposed to meet him at 9:45 (our scheduled arrival time), and I told him his mistake was assuming the bus would get us in on time. "Next time you need a cushion of about 20-30 minutes!" There was a language barrier, and I had to explain that I did not mean "cushion" literally, but that barrier was much better than the invisible walls we both had up for most of the ride. Much less awkward.

I'm glad that I talked to him, because it opened my eyes a bit this morning. And just in time, because while on my high of talking to someone (very sad that such a thing gets my blood pumping as it did), I totally wiped out on Varick and Grand when I got off the 1!! Somehow I wasn't embarrassed, and I think there's something about having the Kooks blasting in your ear buds that almost shields you from the uncomfortable stares of onlookers, but I was also so surprised at the genuine concern of the three women that rushed to my assistance. I assured them that I was okay, and I took it as just another example of how the reality of this place exists in direct opposition to my perception of how it would or should be.

New Yorkers are nice people. And the people visiting New York are nice too. So how is it that it gets such a bad rep?

I guess it's an example of you get what you expect, or rather what you look for. If you're looking for, even hoping for, the worst experience, you'll definitely get it. I guess it's a case of adjusting the lenses. I used to be known for wearing rose colored ones, and I was always embarrassed by it. But now, I realize, how could a rosey hue hurt?