because I know I should be working on my finals due tomorrow...

My eyes can no longer fight it. I wake due to light shining through my curtains and into my room. I get out of bed, walk to my window and tie the drapes, taking my first peek into the rest of my Friday. The apartment buildings around me enclose any opportunity for a real view, but I can see enough of the blue cloudless sky to know that a beautiful afternoon awaits me.

I put on my sweats, stretch and jog outside towards riverside drive. I run, to my left passing dog walkers, playgrounds sounding with happy noises and childplay, and young lovers pda-in'. The Hudson river is to my right. Get to ninetieth street and turn back around to pass those same scenes. Maybe they'll be there when I get back, maybe they wont. That's the way it goes.

Tired from the week that just passed, I get home, shower and take a nap. In what feels like only moments later, I stir then suddenly jolt up when I see that I have less than an hour to get ready for my night. Ya, that's right, look pretty ladies... Dolling up for nightlife can wear away any crappity experienced from previous days. Besides, I've lived in this city long enough to blend my threadage with some caliFLAVS. Yup. Don't hate.

I get to 116th station and wait for Justine at Columbia's gates. Always either she or me late, never arriving at the same time, but there are many opps to people watch, which keeps me occupied. Down into the station, boarding our silver coaches. Among a car filled with stifled energy, some with spaced out eyes while others with stressed out minds, it's been good to have a friend to chat with for the past couple of months. "Boys. Life, joys, school, work. Boys."
It never comes up in our train conversations, but ever since she's opened my eyes to how fly nyc street youth dress, I always find at least one hiphop inspired urban fit, topped with the freshest kicks to silently admire. I like to think that she does too.

We get off our train and step onto the platform. Before we get above ground I hear a sax tootin a languid tune echoing down the subway tunnel. Jazz. Depending on my mood, reminding me of either something or someone back home. Up the stairs and out into a city evening. Parties to crash, dinner to make, gatherings to be at, all reminding you that you are alive.

Dinner, then drinks, then dancing. Rarely a night where you smash so much you don't remember... We're just looking to have a good time. Jeremy, Eden, Les, Tony, Joyce, Karmela, Geoff. The leftcoasters, my funness and home away from home.

It's getting late and we still have to catch our train. We call it a night and join the rest of the night-goers on the subway making their way back, this late at night and it's unsurprizingly packed. We get back, I part ways with Justine, walking fast to avoid trouble, yet still enjoying the red, green, and white streetlights tracing a path in the far distance ahead.

I go to sleep and dream about the other things I will miss. Tasti D-Lite. Street food. Washington Square Park. Penn Station. Individualism. Lingo. Shows. the MET. conversations on my fire escape. communal packs. Dunkin' Doughnuts Coffee. Harlem. Union Square. Neighborhood fairs. My Godparents. Culture. Being fabulous.

That rush.





"one day you'll look back at it all as if it were a dream"