So, I get up today and check the times blah blah and the main story is about the one year anniversary of the London bombings. It took less than a second for me to realize that this meant that today was also the one year anniversary of me moving to New York. Colt took me to the airport really early on the morning of the london bombings and...wow, it's been a whole year since I've lived here, then.
The date never stuck with me, I guess, but I liked the idea that I'd made the indirect realization about the exact twelve months I'd spent here already. As I stared at my computer, I indulged in a bit of flashbacks, and remembered that morning, getting into colt's truck and being a bit emotional about the news and thinking he wouldn't have heard about it yet, since it was so early, but of course he had, his parents think an appropriate time to wake up is like 5 am. I remembered the goodbye in the round entranceway to the san diego airport, and then I got up from the floor (is my laptop ever on a lifted surface?) and got dressed and went to work and didn't have time to read the times because my train ride is super super short so aha.
Fast forward through a half-day at work (i discovered the perfect way to beat rush hour people-traffic--leave work three hours early!) and some paul auster reading and a blog entry whose format i ripped off from best week ever. I want to write about how it's my one year anniversary of moving back to new york. Ok, fern, but first you should check your livejournal to see what you wrote a year ago today.
I started with a year ago yesterday, which held a record of my last day with colt and encinitas.
Dear Fernanda of the Future,Ah, yes, that perfect day. And here I am, reading an entry I actually adressed to my future self, reading it as a full-year future self, meant to serve as a super detailed memory outliner of when you were most in love...ok, sorry. i'm aware this is neat only to me.
I'm writing this letter to you to make sure you don't forget how delightful this day was. You loved a lot today. Or, perhaps you just realized how fully you did.
...You put on a salmon-pink ruffled chiffon skirt that wasn't really a skirt, but more of a scarf, over your jeans, and put your wet hair up, waiting until you got picked up. He would later tell you you looked very nice today, that...well...i mean, you always do, but today especially. Then you were whisked off by this ruggedly handsome man at your door, wearing what some would consider an offensive tshirt condemning the sanctity of marriage. You held hands while he drove, something you do a lot yet manages to always surprise and comfort you........
...Be Good,
Fernanda of the sixth of July.
Next day: