It is interesting to be the person thawing out in a state that is freezing in.

Random things get me to pondering: plump snowflakes that gather like pussywillows on stop signs, the vitality of the morning starlight, the elderly neighbor that greats me with a warm "Merry Christmas" as I walk by with my puppy, the co-workers who decorate their office doors as giant gifts, the ever-consistent, yet shockingly-reliable, way which my day improves, dramatically, by virtue of having woken up to my boyfriend's voice, the eagerness of my puppy to jump into a pile of snow.

I still haven't gotten to the point where I am beyond pausing, suddently, stricken a bit with the sheer fortune of having found this place.

Of course, I'm still also at the point where I can be stricken with the terror of being forgotten, or outdated, or .... there really is just one term for this. I am still also at the point where I can be stricken with the terror of being non-NY.

But those terrors generally fade. I can reason myself down from that panic.

The differences between the accolades of "success" and the success of finding a way to be securely happy are many. Seriously. I no longer know the new restaurants. I haven't recieved any insider emails or been on any list in over 7 months. I haven't, because I couldn't, bought anything that would have panache enough to even get me into the Hollywood Diner. But I don't worry about getting fired. I don't worry about "taking the hit" for someone else, or insincere overtures, or whether I'm in the know enough to pepper my stories with the appropriate nuances of cocktail banter about products and vacation destinations. No guy has told me to change my outfit. I don't need to escape to a spa in order to remember how to breathe and I wouldn't dream of using vacation to go to one.....It was a 60% pay cut, and 200% life gain.

Yet it takes a diligence and commitment to keep myself reminded of that. Fortunately, where my own diligence and commitment lapses, the snow, my neighbors, my co-workers, my puppy, the generousity of spirit that thrives up here, more than compensate.

And maybe I can take comfort in knowing that I have proof that I lived NY well: the experience is still living in me.

But that's enough waxing for the night.

Reindeer Walking

Yesterday I took Puck for a drive to Blockbuster.

I stopped at the quilt store, but didn't buy anything.

I paid a fine ($35) for the movies I had failed to return, then rented two more that I'll probably fail to return.

This is why I never owned a vcr machine.

I fail to return the movies.

[It should be noted, though, that towards the end of summer, and with the days getting ominously shorter, Carolyn got a little concerned about the fact that I didn't own a vcr and that I refused to get cable. So, with that Alaskan knack of generousity and wisdom, she gifted me (together with many other more than generous gifts) a dvd player for my 30th birthday. In any event, I'm now an owner of a dvd player so I'm trying to be better about things like returning a movie. We'll see.]

Anyways, Puck and I were driving around. He likes it. I think he likes matching the piping on the bag he drives around in. To reward him for his good "staying in the bag" performance, I stopped off by the Park Strip and let him out to play in the snow.

We weren't the only ones enjoying the Park Strip. There were a lot of dogs, with owners tossing frisbees or in arctic jogging gear.

There was a man walking his reindeer.

On a leash.