she's a native new yorker

Last post from the city of dreams. the city of heartache. the city of wishes. It's been an amazing summer, and I'm so grateful I got to spend it here. I've met some extraordinary people and made some amazing memories. It was an incredible journey and I will miss this place, these people, these times.

Love to all, one last time.

-Mandy

There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born there, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size, its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter--the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. Of these trembling cities the greatest is the last--the city of final destination, the city that is a goal. It is this third city that accounts for New York’s high strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidity and continuity, but the settlers give it passion...

-E.B. White

airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars (i could really use a wish right now)

I debated heavily this morning on whether it would be a Breakfast at Tiffany's morning. You know what I'm talking about, I would throw on my black dress, coif my hair, stick on the oversized sunglasses and hop in a taxi- saying in a sweet mid-atlantic accent, "Tiffany's please." Then I would pull out a danish from a brown paper bag and eat my breakfast staring into the one place in the city that always makes sense. The place that belongs.

I'm still very near to doing it.

Waking up this morning surrounded by friends on the second floor was more than I could hope for at the beginning of this summer, and so much more than I expected. Ask anyone who talked to me before I grabbed that flight up here and the one thing I feared was being alone this summer. And while I have no idea how it happened- I know that that fear never came true. It's strange being able to establish real true friendships in a city so dispersed and foreign, where people are out there for number one and number one alone. But I know that I did. I'm not sure if it was the desperate hugs to people last night, clinging on for dear life, as if a minute more of proximity would postpone the fall and school and responsibilities, or waking up to a note pinned on the wall entitled to "my Rubin family", or the fact that people sought me out- looked for me to say goodbye- that I'm feeling so warm and fuzzy right now, I only know that I am. It says something about the human condition that within a few months kids-barely on the verge of adulthood can form such bonds and connections in a place that while not discouraging it, by no means, encourages it either.

I'm still debating on Tiffany's.

This week was filled with last minute memories shoved into a solid couple of days, desperation to make the most out of my final time motivating me forward. There was Tuesday dinner spent with Margaret and time after with Emily and her at the apartment, then Wednesday supper with Kris and a forty something blocks and 8 avenues covered walk back to the apartment where I took in my city, from the city walker's view one last time. And Thursday was incredible. (Know that mixed in with all of these days, are final moments at Rolling Stone- with fellow interns and bosses)

Thursday came... and went. My final day at RS, my FINAL night in Rubin, and my final outing with the gang. RS was busy- a good busy, where I was working towards a goal, something I could see finished and made relevant and meaningful. Dinner was delicious, burgers and fries at Jimmy's, with step sitting and people watching after. The concert at Madison Square Garden was epic. Spoon was amazing and clear, the band's talent and passion absolutely undeniable. Arcade Fire however was the greatest show I've ever seen live. And I've seen quite a bit this summer. The ability for their performers to switch instruments throughout songs, to start over (yes I mean start a song completely over) when they realize- hey it's a live show we make mistakes too- and their capabilities, no their skills at performing live made the show one of my top five nights in New York. Getting the adrenaline going with "Ready to Start" and keeping it up throughout the set until finally ending it with their third encore playing "Wake Up"- where the crowd instantly lost it, thriving and dancing to the music and lights and confetti- guaranteed Arcade Fire a spot in my best concerts ever for years to come.

Afterwards I grabbed Kris and we headed down to the village for one last night with the gang. To list everyone who was there would be listing out my summer friendships. This night was the night I was trying to force last Thursday to be, only without any need of advancement or encouragement or arrangement on my part. There was music, and dancing, and pizza (of course there was), and friends, and chatter, and it was an amazing end to a summer.

I've decided against Tiffany's. Tiffany's will always be there- waiting patient and sure for those moments you feel you don't belong, those moments where the mean reds come angry and stern on a Sunday afternoon. But today. Today, I don't need Tiffany's. I am home- as close to a home as I could find for the summer. There have been a few regrets and a few things I missed out on. I'd be lying if I said there wasn't. But at the end of the day this summer was all that I hoped for, but if I'm being honest with myself, it was so much more than I hoped for, expected, dreamed.

So thank all of you for joining in on this journey with me. I know I can be trying at times but I tried to be as faithful and honest to the blog as I could be, so here you go- my second to last post.

The final comes in the morning.

Love to all- as always, and especially to my dear New York friends.

-Mandy

"... I love New York, even though it isn't mine, the way something has to be, a tree or a street or a house, something, anyway, that belongs to me because I belong to it."

-Truman Capote

The Beginning of the End

I know, I know. I've gotten so spotty about blogging I apologize!

I've already discussed how everything has felt full circle, and how fast my time here is coming to an end, but its the one thing dominating my mind right now. No matter how ready I thought I was to go home, I am not in any way ready to leave this place, to leave my friends, to leave this magic.

Friday night was filled with tears (yes, my own, gasp!) due to watching Charlie St. Cloud on my last night with Sarah, and whether it was because of the emotional content of the movie or because of the rawness of my own emotions I'm not sure. All I know was it was the first time I've cried in over two months and I disliked the feeling of the vulnerability, even if it could've been caused by a movie. After I calmed down a bit at Barnes and Noble, a marvelous place to forget your feelings, Sarah and I departed with a hug and a promise to see each other in a week- back in Mississippi. It is strange thinking of seeing her there, she became such a big part of what New York is, was, for me this summer and I can honestly say that my summer wouldn't have been near as wonderful as it was without having such an amazing friend to share it with. (Miss you S!)

Saturday was filled with train rides back to the village. Funny, how as soon as I move out, the only thing I want to do is keep going back there. I miss the dorm and the second floor and the people. Again, it was such a defining part of my time spent in New York that I feel as long as I can grasp tight and hold, that my summer won't slip through my hands and I won't be on a plane come Saturday. I hung out with Scott and Alex while they attempted to teach me guitar/ukulele (attempted being the key word here), then we ran out for a slice of dollar pizza and my mind couldn't help but recall back to the first day when I met Alex and his twenty minute monologue on the beauty of dollar pizza. Goodness knows we went there often enough for it to deserve a twenty monologue. Then as they headed for Brooklyn I headed to the chess boards to watch T play. After a game we left to grab a not-so-quick bite where we discussed the summer and the fall- how much we'll miss New York, and how nice it is to know someone in Oxford will understand.

Saturday night came fast and full of fun. Margaret and Emily and I, decked to the nines in our most glamorous 80's prom outfits headed to Webster for the Awesome 80's Prom, where we probably showed our true nerdish (or AMAZING) selfs as we danced, laughed, and rocked out to the prom of '89. Filled with streamers, big hair, neon lipstick, tube socks and Screech (Dustin Diamond) from Saved by the Bell, the prom turned out to be everything we had hoped for and more. I was even pulled onstage by the Emcee for a spin (and lift!) on the dance floor. It was my one last weekend blast with the sister before I head for home and it was truly perfect. With our fabulous dresses, goofy obsession with all things 80's, and lyrical knowledge of tunes that rocked John Hughes movies, Saturday night was a marvelous fit for Margaret and me, and a wonderful way to spend my last Saturday in New York.

Sunday came with a discovery of a new place. And an entry into the top five days spent in New York.

Grabbing the L train over to Williamsburg in Brooklyn, Scott, Jake, Adrien, Alex and I discovered what I like to call Fondren on crack. The area was artistic, and musical, and filled with friendly faces from the time we got off the train to the time we got back on. Thanks to an organization called the Pool Parties (who host free concerts all summer long) we discovered that Williamsburg was the place to be Sunday afternoon. Filled with colorful buildings and extremely neat vintage shops Williamsburg turned out to be an unwonted but special find. Only fifteen minutes from the city, it was such a neat escape. It was New York without the overwhelming New York feel. We rifled through flea markets and art shows to find the perfect gifts and souvenirs. Alex won the contest for the day with two miniature Hindu figurines bought for two dollars off of a street vendor, but not one of those that has his wares on a tarp on a table ready to run at the first sign of a cop. No, Alex bought these little models from a really cool guy and girl who looked like there own version of a yard sale. With no yard. After the shopping and the exploring the gang and I headed to the center of the Sunday afternoon festivities, a block party with the best mix of a playlist I've heard in ages, situated right by the waterfront. The block party came complete with free energy drinks, acrobats, hoola hoops, and dodge ball. Yes, I said dodge ball, it may seem juvenile and childish, and well, it is. And that's the glory of it. This dodge ball game was filled with a bunch of twenty-somethings jamming out to a mix of old school rap with indie and top forty and it was one of my favorite games of dodge ball I've ever played. After lazily spending a few hours there we headed back to a place we had spied on our explorations earlier. The Surf Bar. A wonderful little restaurant and bar that has its entire floor covered in sand. After a nice meal and even better conversation it was just like Jake said, "I forget we were in New York." With tiki torches, sand, surfboards, and framed photos of waves on the wall you would think the place was kitschy or lame, but instead it was so unique and quirky. One of my favorite finds in the city, along with Grey Dog, the Highline, and Pulse JFK. One super short subway ride back to Manhattan and an extremely encouraging church service, and a delicious trip to Pink Berry later I sat on the second floor lounge with the rest of the crew as we watched with baited breath the beginning of Shark Week. I don't understand the fascination, just like everyone else, but still I sat there mesmerized as the sharks bit the cameras and the seals and kept (like Fiona) my fingers crossed for a little bit of blood.

And today- well today was wonderful.

Breakfast at RS with our sales and advertising heads who gave us excellent and much needed and not often heard advice, lunch at the apartment as I finished shipping out my bedding, and dinner at Kimmel with Scott (with a little bit of time laying out and reading at the park stuck in the mix). My conversation with Scott ranged from the shallowest of topics all the way to our belief systems and it challenged my faith and also strengthened it. Being from a place where most people either believe the same thing as you or put up a front that they do, it can be extremely enlightening, encouraging, and a little bit scary to finally have a true meaningful talk with someone you've come to care about. A talk where they ask questions, make assumptions, and debate you. A talk with someone who has a very dissimilar past than you, who doesn't know the history of what you believe and someone who has a belief system that you don't know the history of. I can't express my gratitude and wonder at the turn our conversation took over dinner. I feel if there's anything I've learned this summer in this city, something that I can be very grateful for it is this. That I have learned to listen to the opinions and beliefs of others without them having sway over my own faith and beliefs and opinions and without me trying to force what I believe upon them. That we can have open and safe conversations without judgement and fear. That we can truly listen. And I don't mean hear. I mean listen. And respond, and to know that if they don't necessarily agree with me- it's okay- the world is made up of diverse and unique individuals and it's something we should be proud of, otherwise our world would be a very boring place. But to also know that in a city that is trying day and night to make me a believer in myself, that is trying to sell me on the belief that it is my world, my ability, my life, that I can be humbled daily by the grace and mercy of the Lord and know that none of it is truly mine, and thank God for that fact.

I'm not one to talk about belief much or faith, but my conversation with Scott was led by him and he asked the questions and I was glad that in my first time talking with someone who I knew didn't believe the same things I did, I didn't shove it down their throats. That I could understand he is not me, I am not him. I was given this opportunity to talk to him, and that's what we did. We talked. And anything more that will come from that is not in my power, and it's a blessing to know that power lies with someone far greater than myself.

Sorry- I digress, but in recapping the day, these were my thoughts and I had to let them take form.

After dinner with Scott, there was second dinner (really more dessert) with Fiona and Sarah and Kareem and many others from the dorm and then on to the second floor where it was Youtube videos and pool and ping pong and mockery of the Bachelorette and so much more. This is the reason I keep coming back to the village. These are the people I keep coming back for.

And on the taxi ride home tonight- with the wind blowing through the window and circling my chilled arms and the music streaming from the radio- I knew, truly, how desperately I'm going to miss this place. The Chrysler building and Empire State both blinked their lights back down at me as I zoomed down the avenue and it reminded me once again of how beautiful and magical nights are here. The life and heartbeat of the city pulsed through the street, impacting the wheels of the taxi and reaching up to my own heartbeat, causing it to race in time with the lights across the East River. I was desperate for the cab ride to never end, for the yellow car to never slow down, the wind never let up, the music never stop, and the lights never go out.

I know they have to eventually, but not for a few more days. And the goodbye post won't come till then.

So to all my readers- whoever you are.

Good night, sweet dreams.

-Mandy