On Being Here

I feel compelled to start this post the way I seem start all of my posts - with a disclaimer that I haven't blogged in awhile. Sometimes my hiatuses are caused by apathy or lack of inspiration or simple laziness, but this hiatus is the result of so much change, so many new experiences, and so many shifts if my perspective that writing it down has seemed incredibly daunting. As a result, the only way that I could even convince myself to begin was to let go of the need to catch everyone up - the final Seattle days, the cross-country road trip, beginning a new life in a new place that always seemed so out of reach and then, without even realizing it, having routines and knowing people and truly living here - and be okay with just telling you how it is now. 

A view from the road.

It's really, really great.

I will readily admit that as an adult I have struggled with the faith I was raised with and what it means to me. I have gone from questioning, to anger, to flat out atheism, to maybe not quite atheism, to being very convinced in the possibility of reincarnation. It has been quite the work in progress. But we are figuring it out, me and whoever-is-up-there. However, being in this place, at this time in my life, with Ricky, has almost been enough to persuade me forever that someone somewhere has been planning this for me all along. 

With the exception of not being around my family and friends, everything in New York is better than it was in Seattle. Ricky is a bartender at Pegu Club, a world famous Soho bar, and I am a cocktail waitress there, putting the skills I learned cocktailing at Snoqualmie Casino to good use. After years of having opposite schedules and only seeing each other once or twice a week, even while living together, this set up has been perfection. I know the ins and outs of his professional life better than I ever could as just a bar patron, I only have to work three or four days a week to be able financially secure, I have my days free to attend dance classes and auditions, and I get to see Ricky every day. 

Other things that are better - our Washington Heights apartment. It is huge. It has hardwood floors and a dishwasher and huge windows that overlook a small park. I'm pretty sure the deli on the corner in a drug front, but we're two seconds from the entrance to the C train so if you just scamper from between our front door and the subway and not look around or go anywhere else within a mile radius, it's basically like we live in midtown. 

View from our kitchen window, our fire-escape balcony. Perfect for sipping morning coffee. 

And the dancing. Oh, the dancing. I haven't had the chance to see any big shows yet, but just taking class here has been, surprisingly, almost relieving. I had built up New York in my head so much that I just assumed that everyone here is amazing. And that's not true. People here dance like they do everywhere. There have been classes I've taken where I have been the most skilled dancer. And that feels so good. To know that I'm not foolish for being here, or out of my depth, is priceless. My goals feel within my grasp. And that is the best feeling. 

I can't even wrap my head around the fact that less than five months ago I was working 40 yours a week at a job that I hated, running myself ragged trying to do theater on top of it, not making nearly enough money, and never seeing Ricky. And with very little preparation, we picked up and left everything we knew and came here. And now we're here, meeting important and fascinating people, financially secure, living in a beautiful place, and working successfully towards dream careers. The funny thing is, had we moved here earlier, we wouldn't have been able to handle it, and if we had waited longer it very well could've been too late.  

I honestly think someone up there is looking out for me. And their timing is perfect. 

So here's to living life. Here's to pursuing dreams. Here's to being afraid and being fearless. Here's to being here.