New York

My mom and aunts were in town and it was great fun! We saw sites and it was nice to feel like this is all a vacation.

I ran into a friend yesterday when walking past Rockerfeller center, which was strange because I didn't think I really knew anyone and I didn't think it was possible to run into people here.

A cab driver sang opera to me. Only in New York. He said something that implied I was a local and I smiled to myself.

We went to the planetarium. Seeing all those stars and explosions reminded me that all my worries are trivial. Watching those asteroid colliding and millions of stars makes you feel strange. Like you've been living with blinders on. Here were are on this little planet and we aren't imporant at all. It mixes together terror with awe and hope. It reminded me that everything just is and it's perfect like that. It's like a huge Russian doll expanding into layer upon layer with horizon lines stretching back forever and larger duplicates taking the place of smaller ones. And going in the other direction, shrinking down and cutting everything in half until it's smaller than anything we've seen and then it continues to get even smaller. Change and expansion are the only things that seem to stay the same.

Even the things that seem so stable and fixed like the moon in the sky are just waiting to change, to collide with something new when you least expect it. And I guess accepting that could make life so much easier. Otherwise it's a dissapointment every time the tide changes, if you're looking to freeze the ocean. That's something I'll try to remember, but it's hard when daily things seem so very important.

I'm sitting in a Midtown startucks. I've listened to bankers talking about huge million and billion dollar deals, businesswomen interviewing a graphic designer who reminded me of Mirando on Sex and The City, and a college-aged guy with three Brazillian women (who must be models) all over him. Or maybe it's just that they're Brazillian and so kiss both cheeks to say hello. But one keeps brushing imaginary lint off of his chest. They all have perfect eyeliner.

Everyone here wears suits and mostly gray and black. My huge purple bag gives away the fact that I'm not quite Midtown-ish. But I'm not really East Village-ish either. And this is one of those facts that doesn't matter at all of course, as I'm a tiny spec on a big green and blue swirling ball floating around in a black sea of who knows what.