A New York Minute

Man, that fabled New York Minute. It really is something, you know?
New York is such a fast paced city. Everyone knows that. The energy here is second to none. I've come to realize that life, time, whatever here is a blur; sometimes you move with the blur. Other times, you're completely still and in the center of the blur, watching it all happen around you. The eye of the storm, if you will.
I've had equal moments of both. There was this one night last week when I was coming home a liiiiitle ... woozy ... and it was sundown, that time of the day that practically drags self-reflection into the game, and the yellow taxicab was racing through the streets at way illegal speeds, and the breeze was blowing in and I literally started laughing to myself in the backseat, just moving along with the blur and letting the thought that I was existing at that very second in the belly of New York City hit me hard. Brunching with newer friends - um, eggs Benedict on french toast with maple bacon what the what - and dinnering with olllllddddd friends and spending a whole weekend with my big sister and walking the streets of this crazy little city ... and trivia nights and happy hours and getting stuck in a subway tunnel during rush hour and so, so many other moments. A happy blur.
But maybe this is the homebody in me raising her hand and speaking up - I'm a little partial to the still moments too. Watching 30 Rock on Netflix in bed, with World Cup cheers and groans roaring in from the open windows and the fan blasting on high speed. And my solo latte runs, in which I drink in both the godly nectar of caffeine as well as the atmosphere of NYC. Oh, and those evenings that I crave - the ones where I Seamless dinner and eat while catching up on my favorite blogs. Those are pretty nice, too.
The blur and the still. Really, they go hand in hand, don't they?