I thought about writing a post similar to Linda's when I was on the train back to Buffalo, but I didn't because a) I was exhausted, b) my stomach was doing some bad things to me at the time, and c) I would have totally started crying like a bitch in front of the entire Amtrak business class. I was sad to leave New York, you guys. Seriously sad. Sad about the way things turned out at Bravo, sad that the year seemed to fly by so fast, sad that I was only able to uncover 1/1000th of such a vast and surprising city, and of course mostly sad about the friends I was leaving behind. I hadn't realized it until that train ride "home" to Buffalo, that New York had become home for me too. It only took a year.
I don't write about my personal life much here on Low Res. I don't have that Emily Gould gene for public self-examination. Whether that makes me more or less healthy as a person is a question for another blog post (that will never, ever be written). But here's the thing about me: I never thought I could make it in New York. Too crowded, too cramped, too dirty, no family to fall back on. A great place to visit, I said, but I could never live there. The TWoP/Bravo thing, of course, was far too good to pass up, and I don't regret it for a second. Getting to work in the same room with the finest, funniest people I've ever known, in the same building as NBC news, on the same floor as Saturday Night Live...it was a fantastic experience. But the best thing about that (ultimately unrealized) dream job was that it proved to me that I could hack it in New York. At least in terms of the crowded hustle-bustle (the money is another story -- one that will hopefully be bent to my will soon enough). I'm not going back upstate because New York defeated me -- which was a real worry when I first moved there -- and I can carry that knowledge into the next time I move there.
And there will be a next time. Soon.
But while I was busy not writing this entry on the train ride to Buffalo, I was thinking of everything I'd take away from my first year in New York. From that first week where Linda and I were out to dinner and I overheard the guy at the table behind me say, "...so I said 'fuggedaboutit,' right? Badda-boom!" I swear to you, that's exactly what he said, in the most sincere manner possible. I sort of raised my eyebrow to Linda and told her we could cross that one off our list.
I managed to cross a whole lot of other things off my list after that: seeing the B52s on Halloween at a Roseland Ballroom chock full of costumed revelers; watching the Giants win the Super Bowl in most spectacular fashion and with real, true Giants fans and not just people like me who hated the Patriots; cackling at Step Up 2 [No Colon] The Streets with Tara and Linda and Adam; walking through Central Park when my parents and sister came up to visit, simultaneously showing off my new city and being amazed by it myself; Xanadu with Tara and Dan and John (...and again with Maria and John...and a third time at some point this summer); the day the cab caught fire in front of 30 Rock; the Tomato Dance; movie screenings with Michael Haneke, George Romero, and Sissy Spacek with probably the best movie pal I've ever had; proving my Scene-It dominance at Tara & Dave's and kind of freaking Tara out with the depth of my arcane trivia knowledge; Survivor Thursdays with Linda and Brian; the subway performers (big ups to the guy who fit that stand-up bass onto the train; no big ups to the wannabe Step Uppers who kept almost kicking commuters in the head as they did their flips); the brownies at Pret; the heroes at Brooklyn Bread; the waitstaff at the Noho Star; riding the elevator with Tom Brokaw and Tiki Barber; my precious few other celeb sightings (what up, Donna Murphy and Keenan Thompson!); every single gorgeous and wonderful friend I either made or bonded deeper with in the last year -- you know who you all are, and you're the reason I'll be back.
Like I said, countless good times, and not 1/1000th of what the city has to offer. Next time, I'll be ready for more. More Broadway shows. More city wandering. More (any) photos taken. I won't miss the summer, but I'll miss everything else.