Monday, November 3, 2014

A Long Island Girl

I thought this was a pretty view.
On a beautiful, rainy, cold morning of the very best kind, I woke early for an adventure. Winter had descended on us over night, bringing with it a downpour that made everything shiny and slick and cold. With a large coffee in hand, and a breakfast of raspberry and cheese croissant devoured, I boarded an Amtrak train on my way to New York. A city that makes my nerves jitter and jangle, my heart beating fast. I'd had no sleep, laying awake hoping I would make my train (I did manage to miss the first regional). The excitement was enough that I got no sleep on my train, either, watching out the window as New Jersey passed by in a bleary autumn-colored collage of scenes.

I was greeted with a smile and a hug, and bustled up and down staircases, learning. Observing. Too many faces passing to keep anything straight, just remember one way is up and the other is down. On another regional, this time to a friend's house, the conversation worth the long trip, I glance around at the travel-worn seats, the faces of the other passengers. Realizing that maybe Philadelphia and New York aren't as different as I thought when it came to trains.


I felt whisked around in a flurry of beautiful activity. Meeting new people, making eyes at the deep-voiced waiter where I ate huevos rancheros, delighting in the detailed beauty of a small town within a big city (there is no 'small town' but the streets echoed that sense of community, that idea of somewhere everyone knows your name). Good conversations, excellent conversations. Talks of worry and advice, love and hate, the words, the words, the words, on repetition even now as I mull them over in my brain. Same subjects resurfacing while two friends caught up with each other.

The wind whipped my hair in a frenzy.

 Alex and Ani Bangle
Alex and Ani Phoenix Bangle
A present for the non-birthday girl from the birthday girl. A talisman. A gift that reminds me to be strong, to rise from the ashes of my life and be reborn anew, to continue to struggle and fight for my dreams and my friendships, while reminding me that one day we all will learn to fly. Strength in a little reminder that jingles on my wrist every day.

My fictional character in my ear, reminding me that we are one. I will never escape her ambitions to become reality.

Long car rides with good friends seem shorted. More talking. Talking over the GPS until I am hoarse and my throat is raw from laughing and questions. Meeting new people who have my name, bonding over silly jokes and female ritual over dinner inside a champagne bottle. Bubbles are everywhere.

Dessert - Vanilla Bean Cheesecake
Desserts are meant to be savored.

Desserts that have pink sugared sculptures calling at you, the art of the things we eat, begging to be crunched. Chomped. Chewed. Berries and whipped cream should be a sin.

It's a worthwhile sin.

Flying through the damp wintery night, a memory to be treasured. The trees lit with holiday lights, their brightness reaching up to shatter the pitch black sky. Magical. Magical in the way an upside-down lamp hanging from a ceiling is somehow magical.

An early morning train ride alone reveals letters you never know you wrote to a twelve year-old version of yourself. The version of yourself that was scared but somehow now, doing this trip alone, you feel the need to reassure. You are overcoming anxieties, behaving the way most people behave (they take their own bravery for granted; there are people like you that cannot board a commuter rail alone). To celebrate these small triumphs made (while listening to a new favorite song) I devour a fresh, cakey blueberry doughnut. Coffee in hand, smile on my lips, I bury my nose in someone else's adventure. The view from the fancier train car looks the same as it does from coach.

(On Saturday I went to visit my friend Ally for her birthday. We ate at a fancy, delicious restaurant and I made a new friend also named Megan. I'm currently obsessed with this song called "Cecilia and the Satellite". Instead of writing a typical blog post, especially since I've written about visiting Ally before, I thought it might be interesting to share with you how I actually view the things that I do. Welcome to my writing.) 


  1. Beautifully written. You definitely brought us along with you, feeling (not just seeing or being told about) the adventure.

    You are brave and strong. And you inspire me. My week hasn't been the greatest, but your words and Ally's positive look on life have eased my troubles. I should check in on my favourite bloggers more often, to remind me people like you are also in the world, when all I seem to encounter is criticism and hate.

  2. Wonderful! You transformed events into art. I love to do that and you performed it beautifully. A joy to read. I'm happy to see through your eyes the same events that I witnessed through mine. Great post, buddy.

  3. I recognize an introverted person's way of perceiving the world immediately. You have a very evocative style! (: And I'm so happy that you got to meet up with Ally and another Meg(h)an.

  4. What a beautiful post! How fun to spend time with Ally, and how great to meet a new friend!

  5. This is great Meg! I love this style of writing and it sounds like you had a wonderful day with friends.

  6. I really love how you write. It's beautiful. I'm tinkering with my blog in hopes of writing more. I feel a sort of passion for it, and I have so much to share. :D I even changed my blog name back to Thera Joyce as Crafty Pirate just doesn't fit anymore. Oh well, change is good right?