From New York with Love

I'm exhausted. I wish it was night time. When I first came back to NY after 7 months in Israel I hated everything right away. Why? Because I set myself up for it. I wanted to hate NY. I counted on hating NY in the beginning of winter, the cold I forgot existed making me ask myself "why in G-d's name am I here??" I wanted to hate NY so much and love Israel so badly so that the only option for me would be to return. And now?

I checked in at the airport alone after making my goodbyes as easy and painless as possible. More like "see you soon" as opposed to "when will I see you again?" My flight was relatively enjoyable - I had 2 seats to myself after a very Israeli woman took up the rest of the row I hungrily wanted for myself. Movies were decent; getting off the plane was fairly quick, and I even received my luggage without relying on the kindness of strangers. I think I waited longer for my parents to arrive than for my suitcases.

I left the terminal in relatively good spirits, dressed rather smartly, my blue sweater matching my pumas, Northface backpack and the cart that held my numerous suitcases. I still found the JFK-area of NY to be quite ugly, but there was no hatred to be found within my opinion. So indifferent, or in decent spirits, I actually thought I could live here, but only in a semi-religious area such as the UWS or LI.

But where is the Hebrew? Where is everything that is familiar? The culture shock of the first few days always leaves me confused that I don't even want to leave the house. So instead I think about what my friends in Tel Aviv are doing right now at this precise moment, how I'd kill for a cigarette and a glass of white right now, and how much I miss of what I left behind. Typical isn't it? I know what you're thinking.

Bob Dylan serenades me into slight depression as I wonder how I am ever to fuse three lives together into one tiny room. I open my closet doors and my bureau drawers and rediscover clothes I have forgotten about from times that seem so long ago, such as corporate America and skirts that have ceased to fit lifetimes ago. I remember that I have lived a year without half of my wardrobe and wore only a fraction of that. Today is the day I learn to throw things away without looking twice. Today is the day I learn to make way for the future.