half of the time we're gone but we don't know where

On approach to a new phase, a new time. Pulse-quickening anticipation. Plans are made, tickets are purchased: it's time to retreat out east for a little renewal and rediscovery. On Thursday Nov. 17th I won't be very productive at work. Instead, I'll be thinking about my pending flight into NYC that evening. And so it will begin. Four days in my adopted homeawayfromhome; navigating subways, urban space, and feeling the press and invigoration of people, all of which are the antithesis of my mutedearthtone suburban existence. I love it. I love New York. The vitality of the city sharpens my senses and attunes me to direction of my life and the vastness of humanity, alternately turning me inward and outward and thinking of how I relate to the world, or don't. Vast urban space as spiritual renewal? Works for me. I used to think I was destined to live there, but now I think maybe not. It would be great in many ways, but in everydayness it would lose that special effect it has on me.

And, as a culmination, at midnight that Saturday evening / Sunday morning, I'll be at the Brooklyn Social bar sharing my first drink with my best friend and other dear ones. I can't imagine a better way to end my year of non-drinking. Brian picked the place; apparently, it's sort of a classic cocktail bar. Well then, make mine an old fashioned, please, and easy on the water.

ramblin' out of the wild west
leavin' the towns I love the best
I thought I'd seen some ups and downs
'till I come into New York town.
people goin' down into the ground,
buildings goin' up to the sky.