Adventures of a street urchin in a feline invasion.

I did a little me thing and went down to spend some time with the city I not so very recently called home. My flight there got delayed, but I managed to make a friend while waiting for Jet Blue to get their shit together. We shared an uber to the East Village and he told me all about his penchant for hostels and the wonderful arepas in Cartagena. The ride to where we were going actually took longer than the plane ride, so it felt extra refreshing when I stepped out of the car into my favorite Manhattan neighborhood. I hugged and parted ways with my new friend then headed to Ave B to see Boulos. I happily walked in the rain to his apartment building and then up six flights to hug him and his very excited Kenga. We eventually wandered the neighborhood together making various stops into places and moments that made me miss being in the city so much.  

Our first stop was this tiny bookstore where some of his friends were gathering and drinking in celebration of someone they may or may not know's photography book. After that, we found a very dark, very loud restaurant and had the yummiest grilled cheese sandwich ever. Boulos and I talked about old times, current events and the effortlessly lovely french woman that was seated at the table next to us. We had a very strange argument about the tip we were going to leave and then made our way to see the friend he professed his love to on his 21st birthday. At some point in the evening, we linked up with Max who was brand new to me and awesome. He walked backwards and around poles just to save our friendship and pretended to guess the numbers I was only saying in my head. I smiled every minute and would be back there now if my life didn't live in the salted city. 

Wrapped up and distracted, I managed to leave my bag back at Boulos' apartment and spent the entire next morning wearing my clothes from the day before. Cat called me a street urchin in the most endearing way and I was kinda sorta proud to be given the name. We found coffee for our drive and then listened to rap music (the good kind) and traded secret stories all day. 18 hours later, I boarded the plane exhausted from a good trip and flew back home to my most favorite smile on the planet. 

It's good to do a little me thing every now and then. Today I feel more like myself than I have in a very long time. It's like a little magical signal from the universe letting me know I'm not heading in the completely wrong direction. Or maybe I am. Maybe I'm okay with that for now. Maybe getting a little lost isn't so bad when the company is nice. 


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