Making Do

(Fermin, Post-Champagne, Pre-Coffee)

I'm back from New York (where I was visiting my friend Andrea and her rather dangerously great roommates Jeff and Paul). When the $100 + bottles of champagne start mixing with the sangria, I should know that I'm in trouble. There may have been dancing involved. Just keep that in mind.

The purpose of the trip was to figure out if I can actually move to NYC this year. Or to be more accurate, to figure out if I can actually make a life work in America's largest (and maybe only true) city.

The answer is a sad no.

I lack the "making do" instinct. I've decided I'm such a flighty and escapist person that I cannot make things work as they are. I'd never be able to carve out my niche amongst the metropolis. Maybe its the modernist/utopian in me... but... I'm going to have to stick it out in Minneapolis, MN... loving my new shoes, haircut, and single life.

Perhaps my liver will recover sometime this week?

Andrew


(Squid on a Stick, Manhattan Bridge)


















(Looking West, 86th Floor)