cara, manhattan. december 2008
work jumped on me like those hungry dogs in cartoons. i've been sleeping with the window open by my pillow, so my face always feels the cold and being awake isn't so much of a change.
every day is a new day here, which you can say for anywhere, but new york just makes it so easy. it isn't a question. it is immediately the elephant in the corner of the room, every morning staring at you as you sip coffee with it and all of the other ones you've met before.
yesterday was too warm to do anything real. sometimes i forget that there's as much difference between 15 and 30 degrees as there is between 65 and 80. after a while my cold hands just stop discerning, and it all is just simple cold. but the 45 degrees of yesterday was really something, and i walked to tompkins square park to listen to the pigeons coming closer as they forgot that i wasn't part of the park bench; i scared them away every time i turned a page. four different children said hello to me. but the thing that made me warmest was hearing the birds; i forgot that you need a park for that, here. you don't have that quiet bus stop wait before school on the corner of nothing road and nothing road.
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