Wish You Were Here at Moxieville

So I’m on vacation this week. This was precipitated by two things: 1) My kids are with their dad and his family this whole week, and 2) I had to take these days off or lose them and not a single one of my clients is in the office this week anyway.

So I’m in NYC this week. This was precipitated by three things: 1) I knew if I was at home for a whole week without the kids I’d get all mopey and start eating too many Spicy Sweet Doritos and do nothing but read cheesy romance novels, 2) work paid me to fly out here for a client meeting anyway, and 3) a friend of mine is in the shiny new Broadway production of one of my favorite shows of all time.

So I’m here, as a tourist, staying with two separate sets of friends, and just hanging out for 3 1/2 days.

It is glorious. I wish I could bring all of you here, without your children, without having to go to work, and with nothing to do but eat really good food (holy mackeral the pizza I just ate!) with good friends and talk about everything under the sun.

I’m discovering that I really do like New York, when I’m not trying to live daily life here. At the same time, I’m reminded why I don’t live here anymore–my pant legs are sopping wet from mid-thigh down because I had to walk to and from the subway to get back from dinner. (I miss my car.) The subway doors closed right in my face. And I saw some passengers berating a subway conductor for something she had no control over. People are just too stressed here.

I think that it’s ok to love two (or more) places. I think it’s sad when you live in a place you don’t want to be, because the longing to be in the other place is just too much. But it’s ok for me to love and miss NYC, since I’m happy being in Michigan. Not the most profound or brilliant thought, but it’s what I’ve gotten to at the end of vacation day 1.

And now I’m going to pass out in a pizza-induced coma.