I can’t ever be serious for that long. Come on.
So I moved. And I won’t lie, it hasn’t been easy. I was thrown from a place where I was dead broke and lonely and miserable to another place where I was slightly less broke, more lonely and slightly less miserable. Springfield is an upgrade in all the ways that are non-feelings related, there’s no question. But that hasn’t made it easy. I miss my pre-2011 life. Jobs, friends, direction … and it isn’t even like I can pinpoint one day where I lost all that. It just all gradually faded away. I have maybe one friend here other than my roommates and if not for them, I’d never see another human being because I no longer work outside the house (freelancing rulez).
I got my toe back in the door of New York sports media. SNY, the network that carries Mets games has hired me to be a part time remote news desk editor. I’m not going to discuss the pay or the hours, but it got me back in the door. For awhile I was bitter towards my old line of work. I didn’t want to do it anymore. Some tough love and a great deal of separation later, I realized I was wrong. I was even further reminded of my wrongness when an ex, who for all intents and purposes doesn’t know me at all, tried to go all devil’s advocate on me and be like “well, I thought that sports and New York wasn’t what you wanted” after I had expressed my elatedness that I got back in. Still shitting all over my happiness. It’s fun to see that some never change. And the super fun thing is that I learned that I have. My first instinct was to go all bitch on his ass, about how he doesn’t know me anymore and he has no right trying to say anything. Instead? I made a silly joke about how it’s in my blood and how I can’t drain my blood, and that was it. I’m so freakin’ grown up it’s crazy.
Tonight I heard from the one person who’s always understood what all this struggle has meant to me and who has been there more than anyone and all he said was “I’m so proud of you. I can’t wait to hear more about it.”
Now, if only everyone knew that’s the perfect response to someone who has walked through fire to re-bust down a door that had been slammed in her face so many times. Yeah, I’m blasting my own horn but you know what I deserve every obnoxious vuvuzuela sounding note.
The moral of this story is I’m in a better place now than I was two months ago, so moving to Springfield hasn’t been a loss and it was the absolute right decision. I miss my friends dearly. There’s no one here like you and I can’t wait to come back on Monday and for most of August and make jokes that no one else gets about politics and food and how New York is the greatest place on earth (because it is. and anyone who doesn’t agree just doesn’t get it). I can’t wait to take care of some of my friends the way they’ve taken care of me over the last two years. I can’t wait to drink at the Riv and look south on 7th avenue and see the beautiful 1 World Trade glowing through the haze like a foggy beacon on a summer night. I can’t wait to visit my old Target and flirt with all the young kids and say hello to the women I bonded with while there. I can’t wait to breathe in the stench of the city on trash day when it’s 90 degrees with 200 percent humidity. I can’t wait to walk three miles up Broadway again just because I can. I can’t wait to give someone on the subway a dirty look. I can’t wait to get kicked by someone doing a backflip on a hand rail on the A train. I miss all this and more. I could go on forever.
Onward and upward. Finally.