Back again, back again, jiggity jig.

Sometimes reminiscing can be a fickle and whimsical thing. To be conjured up for fun or nostalgia's sake. It lands like a bird and chirps away and flies away again.

Other times, though, it lands like a brick to the face.

"REMINISCE?" it asks.

"YOU WANT TO REMINISCE? LET'S REMINISCE!"

And thus a few weeks after waxing poetic about the last year of life, I find myself suddenly, borderline inexplicably, back in New York.

At first it was surreal, like taking a tour bus through a dream I had twenty years ago. And then it all kinda comes back. Oddly enough, the smell of the subway – that mix of sweat and vomit covered up by industrial cleaners – kinda snapped me back to reality. Yes, I know this place. I lived here. I'm not just a tourist in a strange town.

The first order of business (and menu) was to hit up the Halal Guys for dinner. Then I went to Birdland for dessert and took in a set of jazz by Barbara Carroll. I even bought a souvenir set of playing cards. Not getting to see any jazz was one of my big regrets. Not getting any souvenirs was another.

The next morning (this morning) I went to get a big fat cinnamon raising bagel smothering half a pint of strawberry cream cheese. Didn't have enough of those.

And then I walked by SVA's doors. Just to see it, just to touch base and check-in with one of the most incredible experiences I've ever had. I miss it, I really do.

It's funny how having a little bit of money changes things. All of the sudden I'm able to enjoy things and breathe at the same time. The jazz alone cost me $50, but was worth it. And I could actually enjoy it.

So this trip has been a bit of a redemption... To make up for some of the things I missed out on and appreciate the city when I'm not behind the lens of a broke, stressed student. It's also good to know that even though I didn't land a big time gig in New York, I'm still doing alright. I got a job, and here I am travelling to the big city.

Maybe I'm not the hoitiest-of-toitiest of designers, but still. I think I did alright. I even get to go back home to my two (!!) cars. One of which is a Porsche, even.

I dunno. Maybe my brain does funny things in a Connecticut hotel after an absurd amount of travelling in a short amount of time. But I'd like to think that my head is in better place because of this whole thing.

And to think it was just dumped in my lap. Life is strange sometimes.
-Cril