December 18, 2004

Going to New York.

I am leaving for New York, New York tomorrow, er, later this moring, really. After 22 years in Maryland and 2 years in Massachusetts, I have not actually been to New York. I've been through it in cars and trains and over it in planes (low enough to see downtown). Never got to hang out or explore, though. I have my pencils and pens and my current Moleskine packed. I bought a new and larger (256 MB) memory card for my camera. I have all of my gear all ready to go. The fact that I'm not going to sleep much is fine, since I don't have to drive. After life in Carbondale, Baltimore is super-big-city to me again. New York -- the veritable giant of American cities -- is going to be even more shocking. I'm completely stoked and a little nervous. Then again, I got around in super-congested Boston fine, and it's not like Baltimore is not a huge city, too. I should really just be excited. Damn, now I really can't sleep. At a small holiday party tonight, a kid told me that "[I] can burn in H-E-Double-Hockeysticks" for not going to church or even considering myself a Catholic anymore. Don't get me wrong. After a semester of studying the "philosophy" of the Puritans, I appreciate my Catholic up-bringing a little more. But what that kid said was the funniest thing I've heard in a long long long time.

1 comment:

Neighbor Girl said...

Ohhh, nice! I'll save you a place John, I haven't seen the inside of a church since I graduated at the Cathedral in 1997. My southern baptist college roommate used to pray for my troubled soul at the foot of my bed every night once she thought I was asleep. "Please dear Jesus, let her come to church with me, keep her from the temptations of those evil boys, and show her that the way to you is a path without make-up, heels, or v-neck shirts." I only wish I was kidding, because, you know, crimson lips, stilettos, and a touch of cleavage sends you straight to hell.