One Year Ago

At this time last year, I was on a plane to Paris. Just a few hours earlier, the UPS guy had hauled off eight boxes to be shipped to Texas, where I would be in a few weeks. I was no longer part of New York; I was going to back to Texas via Europe.

I still miss New York. I miss my friends there. I miss the craziness. I miss walking the streets. I miss the overwhelmingness. I miss the buildings. I miss the street cafes and the vendors. I miss the music. I miss the small apartments. I miss brunch. I miss the subway. I miss the rooftops. I miss jogging down the East River. I miss the diversity. I miss the way it made me feel to be there.

I remember walking out of the subway stairs one morning shortly after I had moved there, suddenly saddened by the thought of leaving. The City is not for everyone, but for me, at that point in my life, it was. It became my home. It was a year after I moved there that I really felt like that. I was riding in a cab from LaGuardia, after just having been on a vacation to Mexico; as the skyline etched across the darkness of the night, I felt a relief to finally be home. It was weird to think that somewhere so far from my "home" could become such a comfort to me, but it did.

I feel like each day I lose more of a connection to New York, but also I know that each day, I am living another experience. At some point, we move on in life, but I've learned that it's not necessarily a bad thing. I miss the City, but I also know that I can't live in the past or the future. "Living in the moment" is such a cliche saying, but I'm figuring out more and more that that's how to experience life. Remembering the good times but not reliving them; looking ahead but not far forward; and living the now. And right now, the now is pretty good for me.

Walking Down Avenue C

As I write this, I'm listening to Ryan Adam's New York, New York. "I'll always love you though New York," he sings. As I walked through Central Park this past weekend, that was my exact thought.

It was my first time back to the city since I moved in July. Part of me felt like I had never left; the other part of me felt the distance. A normalcy forgotten, in some sense. Of course, things have changed since I left. Others have also left. New shops adorn the sidewalk. But the energy of the city will always remain, no matter how blistering cold it may be. That's the part of New York that I will always love.

Standing in Crim Law

There is no syllabus day in law school. The reading assignments are posted the week prior to the first week, so a large portion of my last weekend was dedicated for reading for Monday. This year, the only new class that I have is Criminal Law, in the place of Torts. So Monday, come 1:30pm, the class that will teach me about murder and manslaughter, among other things, commences. Everything is going fine. A few people have been called on to discuss various aspects of the reading. They seem nervous, after all not having a knowledge of the professor's teaching methods is a disadvantage, but I don't think much of it. Really, what are the chance of me being called on in a class of 100 on the very first day? Well, whatever that percentage, I hit the jackpot.

I don't mind being called on in class. I am not particularly strong at public speaking, however, I would not consider myself bad at it. And I'm usually prepared, thus aiding my public speaking ability. But really, the first day of class. Now that's a little intimidating. And, in this class, we have to stand when we speak. It makes it just awkward, bobbing up and down as you are trying to read your computer screen with your notes and flipping back and forth in your book. It's especially awkward when the professor would go into a tangent of her own, leaving you just standing there, shifting from foot to foot wondering when in the hell you can sit down. I mean, are you suppose to wait for her to give you permission to sit or should you choose the time after she's gone on into a 20 minute story about her father being a Republican?

I understand that they theory behind the so-called Socratic Method is to prepare us for the "real world" (which is a very vague, over-used term that has no definite meaning or definition). One professor told our class that when we argue a case before a judge and he calls us stupid for our argument, it won't bother us because we've endured three years of stupidity in law school from being called on. Whatever the rationale, if I am ever a law school professor, I will not make my students stand when I call on them. That is what I learned the first day of Crim Law.

2007

In retrospect, 2007 was a year of change for me. Good things happened, bad things happened, life went on. I passed my two year mark in New York, then moved to Texas shortly thereafter. I traveled for three-weeks through Europe. I now have a new sister-in-law. I started law school. Three of my best friends got married. I jumped from an airplane. I ended relationships and started new ones. Family members were diagnosed with illnesses.

So things happen, good or bad. I've learned this year that it's how you embrace those things that matter most. This year I've made mistakes, I've been hurt, I've healed, I've discovered passions, I've loved recklessly, I've said good-bye, I've moved on, I've ventured. Through this, I'm stronger, I'm more guarded, I'm focused, I'm independent, I'm confident. So I'm holding onto the things of 2007 from which I've grown and letting go of the things that have held me back. Good and bad, I'm looking forward to the new year.