In which I miss New York

The weather changed here and it feels like fall.  There is a chilly (and rather loud) wind blowing.  Tomorrow there will be palm branches all over the place and one or the other of my plants will probably get knocked over or off my balcony.  I can smell someone's fireplace.  It's probably Selma Blair's, who apparently is a neighbor of mine.  I blame all the loud-ass neighborhood parties on her, too, because I know she is a wild child.  I bet they're great. 

Autumn makes me ache for New York City.  This is the best time of year there, it always seems storybook-like to me.  The leaves turning and time to get out your sweaters and boots and scarves.  I love how my nose gets cold and pink.  Darting into the nearest Starbuck's (one on every corner!) to warm up. I love cuddling up under the comforter for the night with one window cracked just to keep the air moving.  Of course, when I lived with 80 plus year old Frances, she didn't like it when the wind made the door rattle and wanted me to stick a kleenex in the door to keep it from moving.  She even offered to show me exactly how to fold it up.

The one thing I didn't have in New York that I have here (other than privacy) is the electric heater in my bathroom.  My apartment has a tendency to be very drafty, so it is a benefit on cold mornings.  I pad into the bathroom and turn on the heater, then get back into bed for a little bit while the bathroom warms up.  After my shower I inevitably end up getting too warm and have to crack the window.  Or turn on the air conditioning.

It was like that on the subway, too.  I always had a significant amount of trouble with temperature control.  It could be freezing outside and I would always end up with sweat stains under my arms from being on the subway in my coat.  It was a daily battle trying to figure out what to wear, what to bring, if I remembered to shove my umbrella in my bag.  Living in New York is difficult like that - even small things are hard to do.  But, oh, how I miss the struggle.