New York City: The Center of the Universe

"Strange, Patrick thought. He, Patrick Mulvaney, was this young woman's brother: they'd been brother-and-sister through all of their conscious lives: each was more closely related to the other genetically than either was to either of their parents. Yet he believed he scarcely knew Marianne at all. He loved her, but scarcely knew her. Members of a family who've lived together in the heated intensity of family life scarcely know one another. Life is too head-on, too close-up. That was the paradox. That was the bent, perplexing thing. Exactly the opposite of what you'd expect. For of course you never give such relationships a thought, living them. To give a thought—to take thought—is a function of disassociation, distance. You can't exercise memory until you've removed yourself from memory's source."

A vacation dispatch:

• Being home and being in my old apartment are strange after having been gone for so long. So much is exactly the same (right down to the colors on what was once my side of the room in Washington Heights), and so much is so different (me, for one).

• Things I love about Long Island: You can buy a chicken soup produce package that has all the vegetables you need for chicken soup.
  

• Scrabble with a 7-year-old? Not the most challenging experience ever, but that kid sure does know how to make me do whatever he wants.

• I missed New York City terribly. I did not miss the cold. My seemingly permanently numb toes are beginning to appreciate L.A. (which is good because my friend gave me a package of presents with different directions—"Open when you have a lot to do in a little bit of time": "Open to negate shoe lust"; "Open when you are stressed"—and one of them is "Open when you start liking L.A.," which seemed to be in real danger never happening.

• Today, I jaywalked in front of a whole posse of cops. And I did not get a ticket. I love New York.

• Spending time with family and friends is fantastic but exhausting. Next time around, I'm going to one central place, and everyone can come find me there if they so desire.

• New Year's resolution: I am going to try to be a little more laid-back with apartment things. It will be good for me and for my roommates. I hope.

• Google Wave. I'm not sure what to do with it.

• Movie reviews. Don't trust them.

• Seasonal candy. I have so much of it. (But you can never have enough.) The next week and a half may include a permanent sugar high since my bag was overweight coming here (mind you, when I moved to L.A., neither of my bags was overweight), so taking it back with me may not be an option. (I already have to deal with shipping the books I bought at a fabulous used book sale to L.A. since they won't fit in my bag.)
  

That's it for now. Tomorrow, I am going to try to find foot warmers, which apparently no one sells in this city, and I will try to convince my bank that I am me and that they should let me continue using my account even if the cell phone company accidentally charged me four times for the same thing.