When I was in NY, I was borderline unemployed. I worked at the marina for less than 40 hours a week. The hours were not regular hours either. Some evenings during prime boating season, the marina office was open till later into the night. Suffice to say, I was free at times when most normal people are not. Luckily for me, one of my oldest friends happened to have her entire department laid off right before I arrived in NY. Likely, in the long run, it is not a good thing for her, or her family. But for me, for when I was there, it was great. Chrissy is the coolest friend. She is always planning things, doing things, or cooking things. She lives in this giant slanty, creaky house with wooden floors and a room affectionately called The Big Room. It has windows on three sides and is the most lived in when it is cold since it has a separate non-petroleum based heating source. Her house is on the “main” road but also borders a field which is used for farming. There is a rickety barn in the yard that Keanu feels would be a great setting for a horror movie.

Chrissy is one of those people who cannot sit still. The mere mention of planning to do something and she is all in and showing up at your door. She can make an incredibly interesting and delicious meal either out of the most meager of ingredients or one that uses every pot in the house (Thai food is typically like this). She likes butter and is not afraid to use it. She likes a good meal in a good restaurant with a good martini. She drove me all over when I was there and never complained. We took to lunching together once a week. We would go to the lunch truck and get fancy take-out food and then go to a winery. We usually ended up at Corey Creek on the back deck overlooking the vineyard with a lovely bottle of white. It felt completely decadent. I miss it absolutely.

Funny thing is that, when I am not in NY Chrissy and I do not communicate. She is not on Facebook. She may no longer have an email. She has one of those throw away cell phones and when she remembers to take it with her, it is not on. She is not a great phone chatter either. So basically, usually, I go for an entire year without really being in touch with her and then when I show up again in NY, it is like nothing. It was like nothing when I showed up last year for six months. Like no time had passed. I love that. I love the effortlessness of it. And now that enough time has passed since I left NY, I am starting to allow myself to look back fondly. I am clearly blessed to have been able to be with people I love, to be part of their lives, even for just a short time, in a way that just doesn’t happen once you officially enter adulthood. And apparently, even though I didn’t realize it at the time, it seems I have left part of my heart behind in NY. Maybe even more than one.


About nematomorph

Living like the rich and famous, splitting time between Hawaii and New York.
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1 Response to Incommunicado

  1. mauka-makai says:

    we create family, friends where we are. but home can mean so many places, where you live, where you grew up, where you have the deepest of longest relationships to people, to place… I have fb and email and celphone, yet we don’t really hang out, in cyber space or digital wires. yet, I always seem to think of us as slightly bizarro versions of each other.

    (also, I made a dish this week almost worthy of your heroic vegetarian cooking feats, but it was only one dish, not a full on meal). I recall you, in the kitchen that day, step after step. still, never made home made gluten. or pasta. or tofu.

    aloha nui loa

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