Long distance is HARD. I mean, obviously. And I knew it would be hard, but I didn't know it would be hard like write down random thoughts in your planner to remember to tell your girlfriend when you talk that night hard. Like miscommunications over texts hard. And barely sleeping because the bed just isn't as comfortable without her hard.
And as adorable as she is, Finch is not a great conversationalist.
I went to NYC last weekend to see A, and we managed to check off two lifelong to-dos from my list: 1) eat soup dumplings and 2) eat macaroons. Basically, I would now like to eat soup dumplings for every day for the rest of my life, but I'm just not feeling the hype on the macaroons.
I was sort of resigned to never getting to try soup dumplings because I figured they are all made with meat, but A found us a vegan place in Chinatown after we ate delicious (and HUGE) cookies from Levain, so all my soup dumpling dreams could come true. I didn't take a picture of them because I was too busy shoving them into my mouth. Basically they were salty hot soy goodness served in a perfect little bite size pocket and if you haven't eaten them you are not living a full life.
All my friends who live in NYC talk about how the pace grows on you, but each time I visit I require like 10 hours of sleep a night because everything feels like it takes so much time and energy. My fitbit said I walked 22,000 steps on Saturday alone, and I still couldn't beat my arch rival in fitbit challenges. This guy must have a job where he just walks all the live long day, because each time I get close to catching up, he busts out another 2,000 steps and leaves me in the dust. By the end of each week he is always at least 20,000 steps ahead of me. Even in New York. I feel like Living in New York means you don't need a fitbit to remind you that you've moved exactly 15 feet in the last 24 hours, but frankly, I'm cool with my fitbit and I'm cool with not having to walk several miles through traffic to get myself to anywhere I might like to go.
Who would have thought that at 25 my deepest hope is that I don't have to live in NYC? And not just because it costs $10 for two macaroons. I feel like the internet is obsessed with macaroons and I've never had one, so when A and I spied a little shop on the way to the park we ducked in and our eyes almost fell out of our faces at the prices, but we walked out with two cookies anyway, because why not when you're living on one barely about minimum wage income?
And I mean, ok. Mine (lemon basil) was fairly delicious, but lets be honest, I would have been just as happy eating Oreos. Which just goes to show how very not cool enough I am for The City.
But I will happily visit so long as A continues to take me to Cafe Habana to eat what is easily number four AT LEAST in my top ten sandwiches -- the veggie cuban. This sandwich ALMOST single-handedly cured my New York disdain.
This weekend A and I are apart and I will be spending it finishing immigration fellowship applications and A will be preparing for an unnamed BIG IMPORTANT INTERVIEW. We also register for classes on Monday and I'm feeling a little bit of panic about the fact that these will be the last law school classes I take EVER. And then the BAR. And then LAWYER.
It went quick, you guys. Really freaking quick.
PS - I have new goodies in my etsy shop.