"You learn to take life as it comes at you... To make each day count"
It's been two months this week since I left New York. I feel like I'm assimilating; I feel like I've settled in. I'd like to get this visa thing sorted out so that I can get working & we can finally get into our own place, but I'm taking a deep breath and (impatiently) giving it time.
Deciding to leave my life behind in America has taught me several really important lessons along the way. First, I don't need stuff. No one needs "stuff". You need to clothe yourself, and maybe you need a few nostalgic momentos. You need a bed to sleep in and a roof over your head (most of the time). I've been a bit of a pack rat, to be honest. I always felt that I needed every little gadget and thing - and a back stock of it - to have a functioning home. But it's ok. I don't have a stash of 8000 types of tea, every tool or gadget imaginable, and piles of clothes that I never wear, and I'm happier this way. Removing the weight of stuff from my life removed a lot of the stress from my life. Waste not, worry not. Or something.
Also, I can adapt. I can be flexible. When we made "the big decision", I was kicking and screaming and reluctantly agreeing. I didn't want to have to change my whole life. I didn't want to have to learn the ins and outs of a whole new place - that would be way too hard, right? Oh wait.
I went from living in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, to Philadelphia, to NYC (and lived alone in both places, I might add)... and I can't even use the "I'm too old for this" excuse, because I mean, I'm 25. Shut up, me.
That being said, the homesickness (if you want to call it that) is starting to sink in. I'm not sure it's homesickness, though, because I never really called NYC home - at least, that's what I thought.
I miss my family, of course, but I am used to being away from them for extended periods of time, because I've lived hours away in a different city for years.
I do miss knowing where things are. I miss knowing my way around. Knowing the subway weekend schedule like the back of my hand, and where to get the best bowl of hangover cure noodles in Chinatown.I miss knowing what was coming, what was down the street, how to get where I needed to go. I miss all the places where I was a regular. I miss those magical powers that could navigate me home from my bar like a big drunk homing pigeon. I MISS REAL COFFEE.
But to lighten the mood, here's a list of things that I don't miss at all:
Crappy processed food (the chicken at McDonalds here isn't square OR grey. Gasp!)
Angry humans dressed in black (everyone seems to be so much more colorful outside of New York)
The noise. Enough said.
Fear of being shot anytime I walk outside at night
Laundromats
Overpriced organic foods
Overpriced everything (screw you, New York, and your $8 beers)
