Escape to New York
June 5, 2001a year ago, i was plotting my escape. my head filled with dreams, my pants filled with ants, i was so desperate to get out. i wanted to go there at once.
today, i find myself buying bookshelves and shoe racks and welcome mats. i am tearing out ideas from martha stewart and pad, and i’m sketching redecorating plans in my notebook. i am building a fortress around me, and i feel safe and comfortable and happy.
i know there are some people who think i should just pack up and leave, already. some days, i feel that too. you are young, they tell me. if not now, when? honestly, i think they are trying to pursue their unfulfilled dreams through me. they don’t know that i have done things in my life that make me unable to leave just yet. they don’t know that i haven’t lost sight of my destination — i’m just taking the long way to get there.
and i don’t want to run away, anymore. i don’t want to leave a neighborhood just as i’m starting to know my way around and i don’t want to leave the friends that i’m starting to cherish.
be careful, she told me, you might plant roots. and i’m starting to wonder if that would be so bad. what’s wrong with planting a seed at the bottom of the soil? i might actually get to see it grow.
I'm Christine, and this is a slice of my life—a sweet, rich, wildly indulgent slice that would taste really good with a scoop of Breyers vanilla bean ice cream. Read more >>
I run a darling, friendly, little graphic design studio.
I look on the bright side.
I take photos. Lots of photos.
I wish on stars and on websites.
I built my first web site 7 years ago and got 15 seconds of fame. (It changed my life.)
I launched, then relaunched, an online magazine.
I admitted to several embarrassing crushes.
I consumed more bacon than any human should and lived to tell the tales.
