I am learning a lot about the politics of getting together with people. I am a bit naive, I guess. Already, I have stepped on some friend's toes by contacting other friends about meeting up. I inadvertently ruffled feathers of some friends because I contacted other friends without contacting them first. There are odd gate keeping systems that dictate that a Facebook friendship is fine, but the moment you schedule a real face-to-face meeting there is a protocol and a flow chart of sorts to follow before contacting certain others directly. I always thought I was socially aware and sensitive, but I didn't know what I didn't know, and I still don't know the stuff I don't know that will bite me later. It is ironic that my well intentioned efforts to bridge the gap between virtual friendships and real relationships is causing rifts with my already established friendships.
This is all so exhausting, no wonder I needed to sleep for 50 hours to recuperate. I drove about 45 minutes outside of Manhattan to Parsippany, New Jersey to recooperate. I love the Red Roof Inn. There is no better recovery motel for a person or a pet. I didn't know it was possible to sleep for two and a half days straight. I also never knew it was possible to as exhausted as I was when I checked in. Seriously, I just woke up to get some donuts and went back to sleep.
I am starting to feel really overwhelmed by my project. Finding the confidence to barge into people's lives is a lot easier when you are well rested and not feeling like a hobo. I forgot how intense New York is. It is a great place if you are rich and/or in love...but it can be pretty brutal if you are scraping by and you don't have anyone to hold your hand or to lean into when bad weather or terrorist threats hit. When Krista and I were enjoying cocktails and a view, the view got a lot less serene when 50 or so police cars surrounded Central Park and the perimiter of the mall. It spoiled the mood a bit, at least for me. Terrorist threats are so commonplace in Manhattan that such things have lost their impact for locals. Unless stuff is blowing up, New Yorkers have too much to do to stop and worry about a dumb bomb threat. I felt like quite the bumkin for being concerned. Oh, culture shock.
I think I would be a lot smarter if I moved back to New York. There is something about non-stop stimulation and the constant need to be alert and to think on your feet that keeps you in the present and fully aware. From the moment I drove through the Lincoln Tunnel, I had to contend with the narrow, pot holey roads, and emergency vehicles shreaking and squeezing by my car on shoulderless roads, the tolls, the bridges, the crappy driving, jumping onto a new highway every five minutes...all in the span of 20 miles. Before I got into New York I was worrying, however, that was impossible to keep up with all of this stuff vying for my attention. Yes, it was stressful, but it was oddly refreshing to live in the present. You can't be more in “the power of now” than when you are about to get hit by a fire truck.
I am glad I grew up with this intensity and I am glad I left... surviving my broke college days in New York gave me a survival skill set and savvy that I has served me well..but damn, I am glad I left. I think it would be difficult to live in NYC for long without getting jaded, and if I were jaded then I couldn't walk around with my heart on my sleeve, and a project like this would never appeal to me, and then what on Earth would I be doing?
