I'm leavin' on a jet plane...
Today is my last day in New York. My flight leaves this afternoon on its one way journey home. I am exhausted, mentally and physically. My brain and my body are longing for the calmness of home in a way that it never has and I realize now that it is because, for the first time in no less than two years, I have allowed myself to feel that need. Living so far away I have been living in self-protect mode, a trait that I have kept finely tuned in order to keep the reality of floating around in a sea of unknowingness from drowing me. The last few days have been filled with part nostalgia part tourism, re-visiting all of my favorite places for one last time and squeezing in some of the things that I never quite got around to doing. There were no tears from me in the good-byes because I know they are just see you laters and that is a wonderful feeling. I am ready to be home. It's been an amazing ride and I am better because of it. And it certainly doesn't feel like the end, just the next beginning.

Packing up my life after nearly two years is an overwhelming task for this self proclamied packrat. I have spent the morning so far digging through all of the stacks of cards and papers and pictures and playbills and various other do-dads attempting to convince myself that life will not cease to exist if I throw away that cute little note my mom sent me with my mail last spring. It is a daunting task. And it takes me hours because, before throwing away said note I have to re-read it and rememebr when I got it and what has happened since then and the stories it brings back and before I know it, an hour has passed and I haven't so much thrown away my junk as simply moved it to another pile for another box to be shipped.

I think I need an intervention. Or at the very least, an limitless ship-back-home-bank-fund.

I have managed to take care of a lot of the little things though, like getting the cable guy to come pick up our boxes and setting up an appointment for the salvation army to come and collect our "gently used" junk. So sometime between the hours of 8 AM and 4PM on Friday, the apartment will be emptied.

There is still lots of fun to be had in the next few days including a free theater experience tonight and a trip to the Bronx zoo on Thursday. Drinks galore shall be poured and consumed and, in sticking with the theme over the last few days, lots of good food shall be eaten.

Operation "Bittersweet Moving" continues.

**Star Sighting**
I had dinner the other night at this unbelievable restaurant sitting at the table next to Matt Lauer.

Today was my last day at the office. My boss brought me a bag of black and white cookies as a little New York treat to send me off. My other roomie moved out all of her stuff today and will be driving herself to her next gig tomorrow. It's just me in the apartment with a semi functioning tv (thank goodness for internet) and my clothes in a suitcase as I have already sold my dresser. I've got boxes to pack over the next few days and the random cleaning that comes along with the moving out process. Other than the crazies at my bank, things are moving along pretty well. I'm really looking forward to the week ahead, it will be nice to have some time to unwind and enjoy the city before I go....

Full Circle
In the spring of 2003 I took my first trip to New York. It was a business trip which meant that I got to travel for free and stay in a swanky hotel. I sat in meetings by day and by night, spent time wandering the streets of midtown Manhattan. This was before I knew that I was moving to New York and everyhting was foreign and interesting. I rememeber walking through the streets with my mothers voice in my head telling to be carefull while I was there, it was a dangerous city after all.

On the second night of my trip I went to see my first real Broadway show. My coworkers and I ate dinner first at the famous Patsy's Italian Restaurant and then made our way to the theater. I can remember exactly how I felt sitting in the theater holding my Playbill in my lap and waiting anxiously for the experience of a Broadway musical, the real thing, not just a road show, but the Great White Way, in person. That night I saw the revival of Man of La Mancha starring Brian Stokes Mitchell. I fell in love with him immediately and I cried my way through the show. By the time Brian, as Don Quixote himself, sang The Impossible Dream, my tissue was useless. I bought the CD downstairs on my way out of the theater and sometimes, even now, I pop it in just to hear him sing that song.

Tonight I took myself to see Brian in his one man Broadway show at Lincoln Center. His voice, well, like the woman in front of me said on the way out, "it makes you want to grab someone to dance with...and fall in love." And for a finale, after an hour and a half of magic, he sang that song, and it was like he was singing just for me. I cried again as I listened, for different reasons this time. It was like a book-end to this crazy New York experience and how it all started. In a theater with the man who introduced me to Broadway singing the song whose words move me in a voice that makes me all melty inside.

In many ways, this whole journey started as an impossible dream. One that I never really thought through, just jumped in to in a manner so unlike myself. But it all makes sense, I have always been fighting for impossible dreams, reaching for things that I have been told I couldn't have, hoping that at the end of it my quest will not have been in vain. The lyrics seem to resonate now, more than ever. I have included them here to read if you choose. The verse bolded is the one, the one that says it all, and that makes it all worth it.

The Impossible Dream
To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go

To right the unrightable wrong
To love pure and chaste from afar
To try when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star

This is my quest
To follow that star
No matter how hopeless
No matter how far

To fight for the right
Without question or pause
To be willing to march into Hell
For a heavenly cause

And I know if I'll only be true
To this glorious quest
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm
When I'm laid to my rest

And the world will be better for this
That one man, scorned and covered with scars
Still strove with his last ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable star

This is my quest
To follow that star
No matter how hopeless
No matter how far

To fight for the right
Without question or pause
To be willing to march in to Hell
For a heavenly cause

And I know if I'll only be true
To this glorious quest
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm
When I'm laid to my rest

And the world will be better for this
That one man scorned and covered with scars
Still strove with his last ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable star.

And I thought hurricanes were a bad thing...

Hurricane baby boom
DAYTONA BEACH, Fla. (AP) -- Doctors in Florida say they think they know what's behind a small baby boom that's about to hit the state.

They're crediting the hurricanes that hit Florida last summer to the higher number of expecting moms and dads.

One health official says there are more than twice the number of parents-to-be in her birthing class. And another says she has 51 expectant mothers due this month and 43 more due in June, up from an average of about 30 per month.

One set of parents admits that the numbers are no coincidence. The couple says it, too, was stuck at home with no electricity and ended up getting pregnant.

Tidbits--The Broadway Version

I finally saw Steel Magnolias last night. The bitter taste in my mouth has yet to wear off as Truvy decided coming to work on a Tuesday evening was overrated. Her standby was more than adequate but for the price I paid (read:student discount) I expect the real deal. Nonetheless, the other women in the ensemble were fabulous, especially everyone's favorite overbearing mother as Clairee, who's delivery of stinging southern one liners was pure perfection.

The Tony nominations were announced yesterday. I watched them live in the morning and tried to get tickets to the show. Unfortunately they sold out in thirty minutes. Phylicia Rashad was deservedly nominated for her role in Gem of the Ocean, her performance made me go through five tissues. I hope she wins. I think Marmee was robbed of a nomination for her work in Little Women. The musical isn't going to change Broadway but her two solos made the show (well, aside from Joe's Astonishing solo, but she was nominated so there's no reason to even mention it). Even though I can't be there, I will be watching from the comfort of my mama's living room, the best seats are always on your own couch anyway.

Although it isn't technically Broadway, I finally saw Turandot, a Puccini opera I have wanted to see forever. It was beautiful and the sets were unlike anything I had ever seen before, they garnered applause all on their own. And aside from a slight shoe mishap and the unnerving presence of the sexiest priest on earth, the evening was wonderful.

I have two theatrical events to see this weekend...and however many more I can squeeze in before I go. My budget doesn't really like it, but my soul...oh how good she feels.

**Star Sightings**
Luke Perry walking down Broadway
The guy from the B52's at the Met

Since I am leaving, I have been given the task of hiring my replacement at my office. I posted a classified at a very respectible online place and received 40 resumes within 4 hours. Over the weekend I receieved and additional 50. I am up to my eyeballs in resumes and cover letters, all of which start to look exactly the same after a while. (A whole new insight into why I never get call backs for jobs!) I have set up interviews for the week hoping to get someone in here by next week so that I can train them before I go. The funny thing that I have noticed though, and I don't know if it is intentional or not, but people really should pay more attention to what they label their files. I got one resume attachment titled edgar's_sexy_new_resume. I kid you not! I didn't know whether to be intrigued or appalled. I have also gotten pictures included in resumes. Is that a new trend I wasn't aware of? Screw the policies of not hirinmg based on race or gender , best to just clear it up from the get go. It should be very interesting, the rest of this process. I'll keep you posted...

I can't get it out of my mind, Brooke Shields on Oprah a couple of days ago. If you didn't see it you missed some pretty scary stuff. Basically, Brooke has a new book out all about her battle with post partum depression. I mean, she just laid it all out there for everyone to see, dirty laundry completely soiled and blowing in the breeze. The kinds of thoughts she had about herself and her child, it really just blew my mind. Not because I can't believe it, but because it is exactly things like that, like what she was feeling, that make me worry so much about being a mother and why I have yet to decide if that is even something I want or need to do. She talked about feeling completely disconnected from her own child. Feeling as if she wanted nothing to do with this baby, having no sense of mothering what so ever. She said that it wasn't even that she was scared of not being a good mother, but that she was completely uninterested in her own child.

Reality is scary. Being a mother even scarier.

As I was telling this story to a friend the day after the show aired while we were walking down the street, the woman in front of us spun around and started talking about it too, she didn't miss the episode. She assured me that mothering is the most beautiful thing a woman can do and that I shouldn't be afraid. I looked at her the same way I look at my friends who talk about not being able to wait for the days when they are moms--with a blank stare. Mothering is a real fear for me. It isn't just about not being good at it or worrying that I will screw up my child. It's about not being sure that I want to do it, and then being pressured by a husband or a society that tells me it's my job, and then getting to that point when I have to push and realizing that I am completely uninterested.

I keep telling myself that I will grow into it. That one day, I will suddenly have this yearning to hold a baby, my baby, and not feel worried or frightened or unsure. I don't know that it will ever come, that moment of certainty and connectedness with my womanly duty. I'm okay with that. My mother, on the other hand, I'm not so sure about. But that's when I remember that it isn't about her or anyone else, it's about me and my body and my legitimate and very real concern, that like so many women who lose themselves for a while after birth, that I may never find myself again. I give so much credit to Brooke for telling her story. I hope it helps other women be less ashamed of their journey through motherhood. Luckily, there's plenty of time for me to figure it all out, one way or the other.

It's Official

I bought a plane ticket home today. One way. Non-refundable. New York to mamma's house.

I told the boss I was leaving today. Three weeks notice and replacement hunting already in progress.

I sent an e-mail to all of those I care about sharing the news. There is no turning back, only moving forward.

The feelings are mixed...intense...sad...relieving. But I've made a decision, despite the amazing amount of work that needs to be done, my last thirty days in this city will be down and dirty, balls-to-the-wall, "no day, but today" kind of days.