Feels like home.

Tomorrow marks my one year anniversary of being in New York. The funny thing about time is that you never realize how much of it is passing. Time ultimately changes how you see things and how initially a thing can look so different from the way it is when you come back to it. The New York I came to a year ago (foreign, mainly) is much different than the New York I’m in now (home, mostly).

And New York is a place that is always changing - new restaurants, bars, plays, exhibits opening every day that if you don’t act fast enough you’ll miss it. So you have to grab on to the little things that make you feel like you’re some small part of the colossus that is this city, that you have some significance in a place that does all it can to make you feel as insignificant as possible.

Saturday in New York felt like Saturday in Florida or Southern California or some place that is typically 72 degrees in early January. All people are talking about is the weather and how strange it is, how bizarre that we didn’t need our coats yesterday, that we didn’t need our sweaters or hats or gloves. It felt like, for a day, you could travel back in time to late summer, and that if you just closed your eyes you wouldn’t think that the leaves weren’t on the trees, that New Years had just passed, that there are days and days and months ahead of us until we really will see green again to help bring the pavement alive.

And then you open your eyes and see that there is another restaurant, bar, play, exhibit closing, and that the funny thing about time is that sometimes the more there is the less there seems to be.