Do you ever have those moments when you realize that you're seeing something really special or that you're a part of something truly special—something bigger and better than you could ever be on your own? Don't worry, I'm not going to get all woo woo on you. (I wouldn't want my uncle to make fun of me all week long. Good thing the technology wizard hasn't figured out how to comment on this blog website yet...)
But surely you know the feeling. It's the times when you feel as a New Yorker that you really are living in the best city in the world—when you're looking at thousands of tourists smiling, staring up at a lit up Rockefeller tree and for once you're not annoyed at all to be surrounded by thousands of tourists, maybe because the tree is that beautiful, or maybe just because you believe in that instant that the city is actually kind of magical during the holidays. Maybe it's when "Empire State of Mind" comes up when you're listening to your iPod on shuffle as you run through Central Park or along the East River esplanade on an uncharacteristically warm winter day.
When I went to Colgate in upstate New York, the moment was looking down at the campus from the top of the hill, near the library (but definitely not inside it), when I realized for the first time that year that summer had turned to autumn and the trees had changed to brilliant shades of red, orange, and yellow. A better moment was walking through the halls of an unimpressive (by almost all standards) athletic center, but feeling like I was walking to a place as familiar as a home could ever be—even if it was a smelly, cramped locker room, just big enough to be deemed a walk-in closet. Even better was riding around campus, windows down, girl power song up, feeling suddenly so strongly that I wouldn't change my friends in the car for anything, even if they couldn't have been more annoying the night before.
This weekend, after a pretty crummy week (aren't you glad I'm a weekend poster?), I had a few more of just this kind of "moment":
One came on Friday night, as I ate a three-course meal (after a cocktail hour) at the restaurant, One if by Land, Two if by Sea. It was a holiday party hosted by Austin's company, but as the speeches kept flowing from the owner of the company, the managers, and later, even from Austin, the unpaid intern, the fact that I wasn't actually an employee of the company kind of slipped my mind. Because with everybody laughing, celebrating each other's achievements (and anniversaries that hadn't yet occurred), and making fun of one another's outfits, it really did feel like the family that everyone said it was in their speeches. And yes, there was drinking and yes, the Kool-Aid did taste good. Unfortunately, though, my bank account reminded the next day that I work in book publishing and not for Austin's recruiting company. But, the moment was special while it lasted.
Another was when I took a taxi from the upper east side with a few friends and then we found out that the people who we wanted to meet up with were actually headed to midtown west, and then $15 later we were headed into Times Square traffic. Oh wait, there was no moment there.
Today, it was realizing that even if I don't believe in Santa anymore, I still think the Nutcracker is a beautiful ballet. It was being close enough to the orchestra to see the strings of the harps quivering and near enough to the stage to hear Clara's ballet shoes sliding across the wood floor.
And tonight, if the Giants pull off a win that few think likely, there could just be one more moment to round out the weekend. And even if don't believe in Santa, this might just make me some sort of believer again.
Oh, sugarplum...
ReplyDeleteThere are so many moments... So many cheesy moments I could offer to you.
However, one sticks out:
As I was in Hamilton, NY during the summer before Senior year, I was taking a few young prospective students and their families on a late afternoon tour. It was the end of the work day and my job (as a Campus Tour Guide) is getting old at this point. I was sick of the same old questions ("whats the social life like?"), the same corny jokes (that get mixed reviews), and mostly sick of walking backwards (although I barely did it). Don't get me wrong, Kristina, I loved that job. I was just a little numb to everything at that point.
Atop the same hill you referred to in your post is where I let the tour group peer out onto the lower part of campus and really "drink it in": the lake, the oak trees, the buildings, and the various houses
After a few facts about the building we were next to, it was time for one of my infamous corny jokes as my eyes drifted past the group and onto the background.
At that point, I dont know what came over me, (perhaps my exhaustion) but I found myself staring. The sun was setting, the lake turned slowly into a mirror, and everything -all of the colors- looked as if someone turned the Contrast knob up a little bit on the television.
I was in awe. I thought about everything that got me to that point: all of the friends I have made; all of the near death experiences I put myself through; all of the ridiculous stories and jokes and outfits; all of the 4,000 calorie meals at 3am; the tough days "at the office" every day at 4pm (sometimes 6am); the feeling of victory every Saturday and the festivities that would follow soon after.
It took me a dull pinch on the wrist from an attractive upper-middle class mother to wake up from my haze which lasted all of 30 seconds (this woman was very impatient).
I looked at her and said,
"Sorry, ma'am. I just realized how happy I was"
She smiled as if she knew.
I smiled knowing she had no idea
Greg, I knew you wouldn't disappoint. But this is even more than I expected. Your post was the talk of the town last night. Pose especially liked the ending, which I did as well. Hope you will delight us with more soon.
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