brooklyn, brooklyn, take me in.
sometimes i miss new york. and i realize that sounds crazy, considering how many times i complained about living there. but sometimes i miss getting a slice of pizza from a certain place near our apartment, or a cup of coffee from a deli on the way to work. sometimes i miss the random cobble stone streets and grabbing a magazine from a street vendor. sometimes (um, all the time) i miss having a subway stop on every corner, and sometimes (um, all the time) i miss how in new york, i'm not bitchy...at least i'm not any more bitchy than the next person. sometimes it's hard to be the only person who walks really, really fast and sometimes being landlocked makes me want to scream. sometimes i miss the feeling that something really big is happening nearby. sometimes i miss gypsy cabs and walking across the brooklyn bridge and wearing whatever i want (usually something crazy) and having no one so much as bat an eye. i miss the spot where i got engaged. i miss the F train. i miss silent raves in union square. but mostly...i miss the brooklyn flea and that one vendor who sells vintage yves st. laurent blouses.