Today I miss New York

For no real reason at all. I guess with my sleepiness comes nostalgia for the people, places and things I had. This morning I found myself saying that I miss my other two. Of course I do. All the time every day even when I'm unaware of it. How can I not? You take two people who know almost everything about you and then you're expected to find replacements when you leave the country? I can't do that. I trust easily, but not that easily. I don't know when to hold my tongue but I hope I can hold the things only meant to be shared with soul mates.

I miss skyscrapers and Saturday nights and American Sundays. I miss the way the city looks with the sun shining brightly in my eyes, blinding me until I squint between buildings. I miss seeing the rastas in Washington Square Park trying to sell schwag. I miss NYU students while I secretly loathe them. I miss Soho walks and Broadway and 8th. 4 AM drunken Chickpea where we forget about watching our weight and request babaganoush and fried eggplant. I miss the Park at 3 AM when they start to play bad but deliciously good 80s music. I miss dinners before I got to the point where I won't eat out anymore unless it's Kosh.

I miss the UWS crew and summers in Central Park, shopping at the flea market where you can get a fur coat fit for a pimp for cheap. I miss bagels and lemon Snapple. I miss hooka bars that feel more Israel than Israel, and places in Israel that are Mid-East enough they remind me of NY.

But I don't miss Jones Beach. Sometimes I miss Sunset Island watching the sticks on liquid diets consisting of mojitos and cigarettes. And I don't miss snow, but I do miss wearing white at Oasis that time when we...

I miss names I will never mention and I miss names I may allude to. Like soul sisters and jellybeans and Israeli princesses and a guh-guh and even a mei-mei. I also miss my piano.

And I miss summer camp days, as funny as that may sound. Basically I have an overactive mind today that is forcing me to remember everything. Like being a cute, funny-looking kid with curly hair that didn't start to grow till I was 3 and chubby little thighs being called a chicken and made to perform for the camera when asked who the president was "Wonald Weagan! Claaaaappp!!!"