In the city

I go visit “my post” as I think of it. When I return to South Carolina I will put a page of blog posts about me, maybe even pay Newsday for the interview they did though why I should pay is beyond me, and get the LIP to put back the cover story.

I’m into shameless self-promotion as I admit it just gets more and more difficult for me to blog. I was talking tp somebody this afternoon and I think I sounded delusional when I explained what this blog used to be, a long long time ago in blogspeak.

It amazes me how “literary” blogging has become. My first eighteen months if I wrote fiction or just a memory piece the radical right would come swooping down telling me how unwanted I was. I wear those psychic scars and scars from life but they’re melding together and healing into something different. Problem is I’m not truly sure what yet.

Yesterday I was reading a book about writing and it said “don’t try this if….” and I realized that the biggest “no” a major move is what my life has been reduced to.

Living in New York makes you think differently than anywhere else. I might rent instead of buying after selling and i pay my credit card bill every two weeks so I can have an “excellent” debt to income ratio. That’s crazy. That’s New York. I went to a hair salon, near my house, to find out how much a blow dry and flat iron costs. “$65 for normal hair. It begins at $85 for thick hair like yours.” Then I went to a chain salon on Broadway “It begins at $45.” Lucia said she will do it for $85 plus tip 🙂

This visit I have been getting many “you in South Carolina? What are you going to do?” Think straightly for one thing. Yet damn I’m back to loving this city. This morning I walked to the dentist. My dentists are on Fifth Avenue in a building my sister and I cleverly call “the dentist’s building” as it seems when a dentist “makes” it in New York he/she moves offices to 800 Fifth Avenue.

It was misting and i walked the long way through Central Park–to Seventh Avenue. It felt as if I were in a Impressionist painting or at least Green or Hyde Parks in London.

i passed the building I always wanted to live in when I was a child and teenager–a roundish building on Central Park South. Not that I have ever been in it and I did want it moved down to The Village.

I hadn’t been in Bloomingdales in years. It was the last place I saw my father alive and….So i went in, bought a dress that reminds me of my mother and had a long talk with a saleswoman about her mother.

On my way to another appointment I stopped at a discount optician, bought prescription swim goggles and two pairs of incredible glasses that I know I would have a hard time finding outside of New York.

I couldn’t stop looking at buildings (my true museum) and people with very uncritical eyes.

I haven’t been away from New York ths long since I was in my 20’s and I was continually struck by the New York flair. It’s so unique and amazing. It’s not that people other places don’t dress well it’s that New Yorker’s add something and I’m not really sure what it is.

I hope I have it. I hope that I add something New York to South Carolina. When I wrote about Sex & The City I didn’t mean to diss it. I just hope that people realize real New Yorkers are different and in many ways more exciting than the girls in the show.

I hope that I get back my writing moxie; I miss it. Maybe that book was right and a major move is so traumatic writing must be put to the side but if i didn’t have an outlet i would explode.

When I recently met a blogger, said blogger expected me to be loud, abrasive I think, and probably have a New York accent. This blog is where I’m loud, sometimes abrasive and the New Yawk accent comes across clearly.