New York, New York

I haven't missed New York in the 2 1/2 months since I left it.  I've missed my people, I've missed my walks, I've missed the parks and rivers.  But I haven't missed the city.

Until I got back.

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine asked if I'd be in her short film, which would be shooting in New York.  I jumped at the chance, not only to get a free ticket to see my family and friends, but mostly for the opportunity to call myself an actor.  It's been awhile.  So last Friday, I flew into Newark and spent the weekend in New Jersey with my parents.  I realized how much I love Fall.  I love the colors, I love the crispness, I love the smell of decaying leaves.  We don't have Fall in Vegas.  There's nothing that changes in the look of the place.  Yes, the temperature drops (quite a bit!) but that's the only difference between the months.  It was good to be surrounded by autumn colors.  It was good to be with my folks, especially my daddy, whom I have been missing something awful (and I'm pretty sure he's been missing me).  It was good to be back east.  But on Sunday night, as I boarded a New Jersey Transit Manhattan-bound train, I had a slight feeling of anxiety.  The thought of the city, The City, with it's traffic and noise and energy, felt a bit bigger than I could handle.  I've enjoyed the slower rhythms of the west, I've enjoyed the the open space, the friendly people, the low cost of living.  As much as I've been frustrated with the lack of a LIFE for myself out there, I haven't really missed New York.

Until I got back.

The train pulled into Penn Station at 7:38PM.  The station was packed, I swirled through the masses with my bags, already back in the swing of crowd-control.  I found my way to the 7th Avenue staircase and climbed the two flights to...

New York!!  Oh, how I missed it!!  I was back home, as soon as I hit the street.  I walked the 10 blocks to 23rd and 6th, my feet falling into their old familiar rhythm, my eyes searching out the flashing "WALK/DON'T WALK" signs so I wouldn't waste any time waiting for a light to change.  It felt so natural, so familiar, so right.  I'm supposed to be here!! I am, I am!!

Except that I can't afford to live here.  And I hate the business of acting here.  And my quasi-husband love-of-my-life lives in Las Vegas.  

But I am thrilled to be here this week!  I'm having a great time shooting this film.  Vanita, the director, is the wife of one of my Columbia classmates, Maury, and it's been fun spending my days working with them and our international crew (3 of Vanita's classmates:  Olga from Ukraine, Christian from Peru, and Virginia from Dominican Republic).  I'm staying with my brother, Bob, his fiancee, Sarah, and their 4 AWESOME cats (Ollie, Annie, Jaco and Pig) in their killer Union Square penthouse.  I'm seeing so many friends this week, my best friends from college (including a surprise visit from another out-of-towner), my best friends from grad school, and even one of my best friends from high school whom I haven't seen since the day we graduated.  This is one of those blissful weeks when I get to do what I love to do and be with people I love to be with and appreciate every single moment of it.  Because I know that it is temporary.  The film wraps tomorrow, I fly back to Vegas on Friday, and I am once again an out-of-work actor living very far away from all the people she loves, except for the one she loves the most.  And when it comes down to it, that's where I want to be.  Which surprises me, and it doesn't.

I love New York.  And I miss New York.  But I don't want to live here.  Not just yet.