Welp, I went to NYC last week, and I'm back. Honestly, spending 5 days in the Big Apple--16 hours of which were on the train coming and going--is like going to Disney World and being kicked out after 30 minutes. There was so much I didn't get to see and do. I was on my ear to go to a rooftop bar, but that didn't happen. Didn't see Harlem either, but I'm still grateful that I was able to go because Lord only knows when I'll return. Unfortunately, I didn't make a triumphant return to the dirty south with a modeling contract, a high-paying radio gig, or even the phone number of Mr. Right. Bright side? The shopping in New York City is RIGHTEOUS, and by RIGHTEOUS I mean CHEAP, if you know where to go. Luckily, my sorority sister who squired me about town did know where to go, and her fashion sense is astounding. I came back with suitcase full of new clothes. Sure, I'm still an underpaid dj, substitute teacher, and chick who got fired from 2 retail jobs in less than a year, but I'll be dang cute in all the roles I play.
When I stepped off that train at the end of my trip, I was so happy and motivated. People say New York City is dirty, but I was living cleaner than I had in ages. I was down to 1 cigarette a day, I was drinking water instead of sodas, I didn't watch tv and I didn't miss any of it. But just like the energy boost you get from a caffeine pill when you're sleepy, a crash follows. And honey, I've crashed. Hard. I'm back to chain smoking and swilling sodas, smh...I'm still trying to figure out the catalyst.
The Friday before I left for my trip, I found out that a little girl that goes to my church passed away suddenly; she was only 11. Everyone who knew her was thrown for a loop. There's isn't a day that has passed that I haven't thought about her. Her funeral was Saturday, the day after I got home, so maybe my sadness slowed me down a little. I cried for pretty much the entire service. Looking at the obituary and seeing all of the pictures charting her (way too short) life, just did me in. I witnessed her growing up. She was supposed to start middle school in another week, but the Lord had different ideas. I'm not going to go into it any further. If I write any more about her, it will be in a post devoted to her. She was just that spectacular.
I think another contributing factor to my crash was car trouble. Well, in this instance, it was a bald tire. I've had enough flats in my time as a motorist--I'm a wiz at driving over nails and glass--so as a result, I have tire paranoia. I do random walk-arounds inspecting my tires and the morning after I got home discovered "old baldy". The Lord truly is in the blessing business because I called the shop and they told me to bring it in Monday so they could squeeze me in since I didn't have an appointment. I expected an hours-long wait. I was fully prepared to ask for a ride downtown where I was going to walk around and have lunch at a side walk cafe--that's the NYC that's still in me. I was in and out of the shop in 30 minutes though. The owner of the shop is a good Christian man who looks like Santa Claus. The irony isn't lost on me, honey.
Even though the tire situation is solved for now (I still have 3 others to think of after all), my car is really, literally ALL TO PIECES. It's a 2005 Chevrolet. Before I even finished paying on it, I noticed a slight fissure in the dash right at the windshield. Fast forward to NOW, and I have the mess you see before you: a pie wedge-shaped piece of plastic on the dash held in place by Jesus, and the area around the radio gone all to crap, chunks of plastic dropping left and right. The vents are PERCHED there. As soon as my car is in motion, they fall out. My last car was a Ford Escort. It died on me and sat in my yard for 2 or 3 years before someone bought it. When I went to clean it out after I found a buyer, everything was in 1 piece. No cracks or any foolishness like that. I've encountered other people with the make and model of car I have now that had dashboard issues. Oh, and the gages are effed up too, and I've met other Chevy owners with that problem. SIDE. EYE. I won't have another Chevrolet unless someone gives it to me, and yes, that's a big-arsed hint to anyone with pull at Chevrolet who has any shame and happens to stumble upon this post. Otherwise it's Ford all the way. (Another big-arsed hint.)
When I stepped off that train at the end of my trip, I was so happy and motivated. People say New York City is dirty, but I was living cleaner than I had in ages. I was down to 1 cigarette a day, I was drinking water instead of sodas, I didn't watch tv and I didn't miss any of it. But just like the energy boost you get from a caffeine pill when you're sleepy, a crash follows. And honey, I've crashed. Hard. I'm back to chain smoking and swilling sodas, smh...I'm still trying to figure out the catalyst.
The Friday before I left for my trip, I found out that a little girl that goes to my church passed away suddenly; she was only 11. Everyone who knew her was thrown for a loop. There's isn't a day that has passed that I haven't thought about her. Her funeral was Saturday, the day after I got home, so maybe my sadness slowed me down a little. I cried for pretty much the entire service. Looking at the obituary and seeing all of the pictures charting her (way too short) life, just did me in. I witnessed her growing up. She was supposed to start middle school in another week, but the Lord had different ideas. I'm not going to go into it any further. If I write any more about her, it will be in a post devoted to her. She was just that spectacular.
I think another contributing factor to my crash was car trouble. Well, in this instance, it was a bald tire. I've had enough flats in my time as a motorist--I'm a wiz at driving over nails and glass--so as a result, I have tire paranoia. I do random walk-arounds inspecting my tires and the morning after I got home discovered "old baldy". The Lord truly is in the blessing business because I called the shop and they told me to bring it in Monday so they could squeeze me in since I didn't have an appointment. I expected an hours-long wait. I was fully prepared to ask for a ride downtown where I was going to walk around and have lunch at a side walk cafe--that's the NYC that's still in me. I was in and out of the shop in 30 minutes though. The owner of the shop is a good Christian man who looks like Santa Claus. The irony isn't lost on me, honey.
Even though the tire situation is solved for now (I still have 3 others to think of after all), my car is really, literally ALL TO PIECES. It's a 2005 Chevrolet. Before I even finished paying on it, I noticed a slight fissure in the dash right at the windshield. Fast forward to NOW, and I have the mess you see before you: a pie wedge-shaped piece of plastic on the dash held in place by Jesus, and the area around the radio gone all to crap, chunks of plastic dropping left and right. The vents are PERCHED there. As soon as my car is in motion, they fall out. My last car was a Ford Escort. It died on me and sat in my yard for 2 or 3 years before someone bought it. When I went to clean it out after I found a buyer, everything was in 1 piece. No cracks or any foolishness like that. I've encountered other people with the make and model of car I have now that had dashboard issues. Oh, and the gages are effed up too, and I've met other Chevy owners with that problem. SIDE. EYE. I won't have another Chevrolet unless someone gives it to me, and yes, that's a big-arsed hint to anyone with pull at Chevrolet who has any shame and happens to stumble upon this post. Otherwise it's Ford all the way. (Another big-arsed hint.)
So, I say all of that to say that I'm really back at square one. I'm praying my phone won't ring and I see SubFinder the caller id, clenching my butt cheeks as I check for available jobs. I won't say I don't want to go to school; I'm just not ready. Not ready at all. I wish I was still in New York.
*I'll post more about my trip later. It may be a series of posts.
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