It's been almost 5 years since I moved to this schizophrenic town; I was meditating a sum total of 40 minutes a day and lived a quiet life in Tampa Florida as a nanny before enrolling full time in college. I now have a razor phone instead of a 3 pound cellie with an Emilie Strange snap-on cover; my hair's five times longer, my skin immeasurablely paler, and my jeans way way tighter, tapered instead of flared. Of all the things that have changed, my expectation of what the future holds has altered the most. I thought by the age of 25, I would never leave the house with wet hair or wear the same pair of jeans 2, 3, even 4 days in a row--In fact, I though I wouldn't even be wearing jeans, but skirts and power suits like Murphy Brown. *** I have no idea what the future holds, but one thing that has remained constant from day one in New York City to this very day is my open heart, and the open hands of those around me. Some relationships have drifted, some painfully ended, and others are growing stronger every day. But I have always loved and been loved. The non-existant luxery loft and class-mate-cum-husband don't matter as much as the purity my life holds. I thank all of you who are a part of it.
.
