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“I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

August 20, 2014

Waking up in my New York City apartment the other morning after a blissful several weeks on Cape Cod, I felt like Dorothy waking up in Kansas after a long, delicious dream. Everything was back to black and white. And as my eyes adjusted to the smaller bedroom, it took me a few seconds to birdremember where I was.

I got out of bed and looked out the window. Instead of seeing green grass, trees and robins snacking at the bird feeder, I saw rows of buildings, water towers sprinkled on top with a clear view of my neighbor who never bothers to close his blinds nor put on clothing.

While preparing breakfast I thought of what had become my summer morning ritual – walking into the kitchen to find my parents seated at the table, sections of the Wall Street Journal spread out like seashells, hearing them say, “Good morning” to me as I made a peanut and banana sandwich acanalnd laced up my bike shoes. That routine was gone. Long gone.

I left my apartment and headed south, 30 blocks to work. Traffic and construction were already at ear splitting decibels and it wasn’t even 8 a.m. Walking down 9th Avenue I pictured the Cape Cod Canal where I’d biked almost every day and could still see the water at my side, seagulls gliding overhead. But that image was quickly erased as I was brought back down to reality having to step over a pinkish pile of someone’s dinner from the night before splattered on the sidewalk, dirty pigeons fighting to get a bite.

In a storefront window I caught my reflection. Black shirt and jeans; an ensemble I hadn’t worn in weeks. I thought of my colorful shorts, the ones with the red lobsters on them, neatly folded and put away for the season. I looked at my hair, blown out and pulled back, the soft curls replaced with the more sophisticated city style. Then there was the one accessory I hadn’t worn since before the Fourth of July – my New York City mask. Part scowl/part “Don’t even think about messing with me,” it’s one of the first things I put on in the morning and the last thing to come off at night. Then I laughed. I was back in the Big Apple. There’s no place like home.

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6 Comments
  1. Marilyn Solomon permalink

    Back to the real world, but it sounds like you had a great summer so far. Regards to all!😘

  2. Joe F. permalink

    New Yorker, New Yorker. You are still a Mass gal. Missing the good things already.

  3. Jamie Barr permalink

    So next summer, maybe I can trade places with you and live with your folks.
    This way, you can live in your true home all summer!

  4. Debra Topilow permalink

    The info about your neighbor brings back memories of the Ugly Naked Guy from Friends.

    Date: Wed, 20 Aug 2014 21:50:36 +0000 To: debra@topilow.com

  5. I am thinking about moving to NYC to pursue a writing career. People think I’m crazy, but I’d be crazier to stay in Texas to not live to my fullest potential – it’s so boring over here.

    Btw, are you still in your super small apartment? I found you through a YouTube video showing a tour of it.

    Renee

  6. shelly1185@hotmail.com permalink

    Just click those red ruby slippers and you’ll be home in no time. We miss our beautiful biker but determined to get to NYC more often this year. Thanks for all the fun and successful projects, and laughs throughout………Much thanks to George, s well, for all his repairs……….Mom

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