26 Years ago.....

this is the day my life changed forever.  A little girl lost her daddy.  That little girl was me.  I was just 9 years old and this was the day I grew up overnight.  As I reflect back on the 26 years without my dad, there isn't a day that goes by I don't think about him and what he would think about what I have done with my life.  Would he be able to imagine his little girl in NYC?  Or, more realistic, could I have left him for the Big City? I fear that living in the big city will erase my roots as a daddy's girl who grew up on a farm.  When this fear paralyzes me, I want to pack up and move back.  Then I ask myself, what would my daddy do?  There is a part of me that wants to live near his memory, in Wisconsin.  But, do memories travel with me?  Will living in the big city erase the "daddy's girl" that lives deep inside of me?  Each question is only answered with another question.  There isn't anything easy about losing a parent at that age, the emptiness does not go away with age or change in location.  I do believe that Jack Rosenbaum is proud of his little girl.... if only I could hear that from him.  My day of sadness will pass  as it does every year with the welcoming of October 31st, however I can't stop to wonder how different my life would be if he were still with me.  Would I be here in NYC?  Would I have fought so hard for all my dreams to come true?  Again, only questions and no answers.

A Bad Apple in the Big Apple??

On days like today, I must admit I really don't understand people and the motivation to have dislike towards another.  I have had people who would not prefer to have me as their best friends', but I have never experienced this intensity of "dislike" until I moved to NYC. Why do people wish bad on fellow human beings?  What motivates a person to put me down, to make me feel so crappy inside?  Is it jealously?  Is it insecurity?  Does this person feel threatened in some way?  I ask myself these questions everyday.  On the flip side, I also witness the greatest acts of good in this great city.  On my way home from work today, I was blessed to witness a stranger offering another stranger help in the middle of a busy bus terminal.  This made me smile deep inside.  Why is it the negative things that happen in my life seem so large?  Why does the bad shadow the good?   I would like to say that my perception only comes from the good that I experience in my new life here, however, my feelings tell me different.  Will I allow my perception of the Big Apple to be swayed by the Bad Apple or the Good Apple?

A Day In the Life of Lydia......

My alarm awakened me at 5am this morning.  I checked the bus schedule and found out I needed to be on the 5:47am bus in order to make it to my 7am meeting at the hospital.  I found my way out of my apartment at 4:42am only to find out it was raining.  Good thing I always carry an umbrella in my work bag.  For those of you who do not live in NYC, there is a reason big bags (lovely big designer bags I might add) are carried.  The purpose of a big bag is to carry around a stock of things that one may need while being subjected to the elements on one's way to work. The 5:47am bus arrives right on time at 6:02am.  I flip out my monthly pass and board the bus and sit myself comfortably between 2 lovely people who seem to think the skinny people in this world do not deserve much seat cushion, however, I refuse to move so I hold my seat ground.  I arrive 15 minutes later at PABT and begin my trek into the subway system.  The 7 train is surrounded with extremist born again Christians preaching their heart out (screaming directly in my ear) and handing out tracks.    From the 7 train I make a mad dash for the 6 train where I can catch my breath for 3 stops.  Once I reach my stop, I proceed to walk 5 avenue blocks to arrive at the hospital at 6:30am.  All of this, BEFORE COFFEE!!!  After work, as I walk to PABT, I pass by Zara.... I have to go in.  In a matter of about 5 minutes, my arms of full of things I really think I need.  After the next half hour of pondering, I realize that will power needs to be exercised and I put the "needed" clothes back on the rack.  I leave and proceed to my bus.  At PABT, there is usually a line for the 126 of which one waits on average of 30 minutes to see anything resembling a bus. Most of the time I end up standing on the bus for my trip home.  You want to talk about a balancing act.... good thing I have finally gotten the hang of it as the first time on my feet in a moving vehicle was a bit of a disaster!  Ahhhhh..... I arrive home at 6pm.....

Based on my average day working in NYC I must: keep my love for shopping in check; fight for space on the bus and hold my ground once I get it; instead of developing "sea legs", I must develop 'bus legs"; realize a morning workout is not needed, all I have to do is make the trip into work; learn that patience is not a virtue in NYC, it is a weakness!

You Can't Take The Country Out Of The Girl......

October is always welcome with a contemplative  glow surrounding me.  For those who don't like a writer's figurative style, that means I spend the month of October pondering the past, present, and future.  As I work on my new and old paintings, I began to contemplate my choice of music this morning.  I am listening to Collin Raye, yes, ladies and gentlemen, Country Music.  I asked myself the question, why am I listening to this?  Why is this music creating a peace inside of me?  Why am I craving the feeling this music brings to me?  One answer, NYC has left this part of me untouched.  No matter how long I am in NYC, I will always be a country girl at heart.  I will always be that girl who grew up loving the smell of a horse and all the "droppings" that come with the scent of a horse.  I will always be that girl who had the best summers of her life spending every single day in the barn listening to country music, who lived for the county fair each year, and who will not ever be ashamed of where I came from!!  As I continue to adapt to this new culture of NYC by walking through the streets of Manhattan annoyed with mindless tourists and always in a hurry, I will always be the girl who loved growing up in Wisconsin.

NYC: The place to be? or The place not to be?

As I walk through the streets of Manhattan everyday pushing through layers of people covering the sidewalk and playing chicken with the oncoming pedestrian traffic, I have to ask myself, "Why do I live here"?  Right now I cannot answer that question with any bit of clarity.  The answer will depend on the day you ask.  Many men may say, "that's a women for ya".  Well, so be it.  I reserve the right to change my mind with the sunrise of each day.  With that said, I have moments of living here where I see myself as the luckiest girl.  Last weekend I boarded the 7 train at TS and for some reason I was the "information desk" of the train.  Everyone who walked through the open doors came right up to me and asked me if the train went here or there.... did I mention, I was asked in every different language except English.  Well, a man I will refer to as "Mr. Brooklyn" really got a kick out of this and began sending passengers my way.  It was actually quite hilarious and I had a good laugh with a stranger until GC, where I exited and went about my life.  This would only happen in NYC.  So the debate will continue.  Place your bets people, will I stay or will I leave???