This is a post I wrote the day after I came back from my 3-months in Norway, never posted it, and found it on my computer over the weekend. Better late than never!
I plan to start blogging regularly again for 2009. Right now, all my free time is taken spending time with my new roommate, eating my new roommate’s delicious cooking, and wishing that my new roommate and I had a dishwasher. Two people who love to cook produce a seriously endless stream of dirty caked-on-nightmare-what-is-growing-on-that dishes, pots and pans that don’t even begin to fit in my refrigerator-sized kitchen.
Okay, I haven’t just been sitting around eating and washing dishes. I’m also taking a couple classes – a children’s writing course and Italian class aka my weekly massacring of a beautiful language. I’m pretty sure I sound less Italian every week and more like a Midwesterner with a mouthful of Jolly Ranchers trying to eat a bowlful of ziti.
Happy holidays and lots of love to you all!
Last week as I was packing, I said to Fabio – I can’t believe that I have entire APARTMENT full of stuff back in NYC. This summer I felt like I had everything I needed
Now that I’m home though, I missing what I didn’t know I was missing. There’s a sense of comfort you get from being around your stuff – what you’re used to.
In NYC, this means convenience. My first night back, I did what I do every time I come home. I got out and WALKED. It was a blissfully un-Norwegian hot, sunny, steamy September city heat. And everything was within footsteps. Stopped at Zabars for tomorrow’s breakfast then across the street, stopped at my regular pedicure spot. Every NY woman has a reliable Asian-run spot on her block in Manhattan. Then ordered take-out food on- line, no need to talk to a soul and crashed on my couch watching a Pay-Per-View movie eating Thai green curry chicken.
These conveniences are certainly something I could do without in a foreign country, right? Every New Yorker has to adapt to life without them when they inevitably move out to the foreign lands of New Jersey or Westchester County. Is Norway or Italy any different in this regard?
Then there’s the stuff I am missing in hindsight. Is this some kind of neurological disorder? I am back. I miss my teakettle. I miss that there’s a spot on the wall to hang my Sierra Club calendar that I buy every year. I miss my big fat, paper cookbooks. I miss my stash of greeting cards that I can sort through when someone has a birthday I’ve remembered at the last minute. I miss my Alpico plates from Zabars with the unmatching NYC bowls from Fish’s Eddy. I am so happy and comfortable to be ensconsed in all this cozy, familiar world that I am missing it in retrospect.
I especially miss my comfy bed and the four pillows I pile around me every night.
Although last night, even the smothering comfort of my four pillows couldn’t drown out missing my sweet Italian boyfriend sleeping next to me, warm and adorable.
There’s also no replacing making a new recipe for dinner with Jen or sipping tea while she’s nursing the bean.
With a few special exceptions, my friends and family live such a distance that the relationships are portable. I hope. Because the rest of it I can put in a box.