Life Restarted

My summer vacation lasted two weeks. Once finals were put to rest I went into high school summer vacation mode. In other words, I did a whole lot of everything which simultaneously meant a whole lot of nothing. Golf on Wednesday? Sure. How about on Thursday too and then again on Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. I mean, I probably won't golf for the three months I'm out in the city so I had better get in as much practice as possible. Yeah, it makes perfect sense. And while driving around metro-Detroit before hitching a plane ride out to NYC I got all nostalgic about high school summers. I went to Royal Oak, Ferndale, Detroit, East Lansing, Ann Arbor, and Northern Michigan. I golfed, did a whole lot of driving, and recollected on the days when nothing mattered more than drinking slurpees, going to the movies, getting fourth/fifth/sixth meal at Taco Bell and trying to do something off-the-wall.

Now that I'm back in the city, my life is sort of jump-started back into reality. Packing for a three month trip and praying I didn't forget anything will do that to a person, especially when it can save me major coin, like $50 in toiletries for instance. Waking up at 4:45AM when ghosts still haunt people in horror movies to board a plane at 7:20 AM is reality. Arriving at the airport an hour and a half before my departure and still having to cut 100 very angry people in line doesn't only make me blush, but gets me freaking out like a drunk college freshman walking past a cop. Taking a cab ride, well check that, taking a ride from a weird Jamaican dude who is clearly not authorized by the City of New York to transport anyone for that matter will get me fearing for my life. In the single most stressful, interesting, and heart-wrenching day since finals two weeks ago, I find it difficult to acknowledge all my emotions. It's like I'm eating Indian food and instead of my taste-buds trying to distinguish flavors, it's my mind trying to figure out what the heck is happening.

One minute I'm driving a golf kart and shanking tee shots into opposing fairways and the next I'm surrounded by more foreigners than a United State Immigration agent. All of a sudden the whirlwind of jumping from home in Michigan into the city with its beeping car horns, emergency sirens, crazy languages and weird looking people is all coming back to me. I almost forgot what it was like living here after being away for nine months. This time, I want to remember everything- from start to finish. I want to remember my first conversation with my Austrian roommate whose only words I could comprehend was, "Oh, hello" even though a ten minute conversation ensued. I want to remember the Greek baker who didn't like me eating all the samples of cheese and proceeded to take away the sampler platter. I want to remember the old man walking down the street pushing his dentures in and out of place. Actually, that may be something I don't want to remember even though he did have some fine chompers. I want to remember how good my mom's peanut butter and jelly sandwich tasted on raisin bread 44,000 feet in the air while flying over God knows what state. I want to remember how much my family loves me back home in Michigan and the feel of their hugs when I said good-bye at the airport.

I've traded in slurpees for tasti D-lite. Wendy's Chili for street meat with BBQ and white sauce. One daily cup of coffee for a few...or more. The bars for beer gardens. And my car for the subway. I have to think differently, become a little sharper, a little faster, and a little wiser. I have to rely on myself to cook and clean. I'm a free man, but at the same time tied down with responsibilities...sorta, I mean, I never really had to take the time to cook and clean until now. This is my new-life completely and totally restarted, at least until I go back home.