Boulder = Brooklyn
Ah, the global marketplace. You move 1795 miles and nothing changes. Some things I thought I had lost, which have now been found again, include....
....Sabra Go Mediterranean Classic Hummus. I thought I would have to switch to an inferior brand when I lost access to my corner bodega. But Saturday I was strolling through Safeway, and there it was. I had to agree when, a few aisles later, a tiny man serving samples of NEW! Quaker Oatmeal Breakfast Cookies* remarked that this particular Safeway (the one at 28th and Iris, if anybody's interested) is "the most cos-o-mo-politan Safeway" he had ever served samples in. Who knew?
....my beloved therapist, ND. I used to trek down to her office at 6th Ave and 8th Street every Friday at 12:45pm. Now I trek from my kitchen to my sofa, coffee in hand, every Tuesday morning at 7:30am.
....annoying authors. This one I had hoped would not resurface, but alas.
....heart palpitations. Sometime last summer my crazy, unhealthy New York life caught up with me in the form of freaky heart palpitations. In the following months I visited an emergency room, had an echocardiogram, and even wore a thoroughly unsexy holter monitor for 24 hours, as little GTO can attest, which counted my irregular beats. (Over 650 in 24 hours--still several thousand too few to worry my cardiologist.) I had hoped I'd leave them behind when I struck out for the mountain zone, but no. Even in Boulder, I can still count on a few funky beats whenever I eat chocolate--which is a lot.
....good guitar lessons. See posts previous regarding the amazing emergence of sweet Murph.
....speed. I don't mean the drug, I mean the habit. Part of why I left NYC was because my life there was so high-strung. I sped from one engagement to another; from one day to the next. I sped through the city on crowded subways, sped down avenues in stuffy, smelly cabs. I click-clacked ferociously down sidewalks and into expensive restaurants, where I dashed through lunches with speedy agents, then zipped back up to the office for another whirlwind afternoon. I don't mean to say that my life here is in a gear that high--I don't think a gear that high exists in laid-back Boulder. But I've only been here six weeks, and I have no social life to speak of, and already I have found myself wondering when I'll have time to finish unpacking my boxes. Speed survives and thrives. As long as my mind is speedy, so will my life be.
*Gross. Not that you had to ask.
....Sabra Go Mediterranean Classic Hummus. I thought I would have to switch to an inferior brand when I lost access to my corner bodega. But Saturday I was strolling through Safeway, and there it was. I had to agree when, a few aisles later, a tiny man serving samples of NEW! Quaker Oatmeal Breakfast Cookies* remarked that this particular Safeway (the one at 28th and Iris, if anybody's interested) is "the most cos-o-mo-politan Safeway" he had ever served samples in. Who knew?
....my beloved therapist, ND. I used to trek down to her office at 6th Ave and 8th Street every Friday at 12:45pm. Now I trek from my kitchen to my sofa, coffee in hand, every Tuesday morning at 7:30am.
....annoying authors. This one I had hoped would not resurface, but alas.
....heart palpitations. Sometime last summer my crazy, unhealthy New York life caught up with me in the form of freaky heart palpitations. In the following months I visited an emergency room, had an echocardiogram, and even wore a thoroughly unsexy holter monitor for 24 hours, as little GTO can attest, which counted my irregular beats. (Over 650 in 24 hours--still several thousand too few to worry my cardiologist.) I had hoped I'd leave them behind when I struck out for the mountain zone, but no. Even in Boulder, I can still count on a few funky beats whenever I eat chocolate--which is a lot.
....good guitar lessons. See posts previous regarding the amazing emergence of sweet Murph.
....speed. I don't mean the drug, I mean the habit. Part of why I left NYC was because my life there was so high-strung. I sped from one engagement to another; from one day to the next. I sped through the city on crowded subways, sped down avenues in stuffy, smelly cabs. I click-clacked ferociously down sidewalks and into expensive restaurants, where I dashed through lunches with speedy agents, then zipped back up to the office for another whirlwind afternoon. I don't mean to say that my life here is in a gear that high--I don't think a gear that high exists in laid-back Boulder. But I've only been here six weeks, and I have no social life to speak of, and already I have found myself wondering when I'll have time to finish unpacking my boxes. Speed survives and thrives. As long as my mind is speedy, so will my life be.
*Gross. Not that you had to ask.
posted by Kelly at 8:37 PM
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