It’s so cold in Manhattan I can’t feel a thing.

Ever notice how sometimes people blow into your life like the chilly winter air whipping down Broadway, and just when you think that they’ll become a permanent thing (like you do when it’s 17 degrees out but feels like 2 and you can’t even imagine what the city felt like in summer when you were walking around in shorts and t-shirts...), they suddenly blow out again without you even realizing it?

It hits you - bam! - the way that first warm day does when you open your door and the sun’s out and you realize that you no longer need to push your hands so far into your coat pockets to protect yourself.

I wonder why it is that some people are like the seasons, and can never seem to manage to stick around for very long.

All I know is I can’t wait for spring.

Another year.

On New Years Eve I was at a dinner party downtown, and as the ball dropped forty blocks away in Times Square and I had no one to kiss (will that ever change?) I have to admit I thought seriously about how wrong I’d gotten so many things over the past 365 days. I resolved then and there that in the New Year I’d try to get a few more things right.

On my way home I got on the uptown express train and sat across from a guy who, after a few minutes, closed his eyes, turned green, and then proceeded to throw up all over himself.

I guess some things never change, no matter how hard you try.