Traveling NYC With My Mother

Tonight I thought that I would post something little different. Despite the fact that I am a blogger, I'm not exactly sure that I would call myself a writer. I love to write, I just don't see myself as a writer per say. However I do enjoy creative writing (duh) and last year I was inspired by the essays I read in AP Lang. So here's my first ever publicized writing piece, my own essay/poem/whatever you want to call it, called Traveling NYC With My Mother, a Heartfelt and Sleepy Moment in Time. 

It is currently 1:30 AM and I am filled with a longing for New York. The city beckons like no other, and what I wouldn't give to be doing my schoolwork in that dirty little supermarket near Times Square. I listen to show tunes, not because I am a dedicated musical lover, but because of the nostalgic smile that makes its way across my face when I hear a song and remember the bitter cold we felt as walked as quickly as we could to the theater at night. Or the sleepiness I rubbed from my eyes when we left the hotel early in the morning to get tickets in the box office. I love the constant uncertainty, the thought that maybe it would be okay to have sushi for breakfast because it's the only thing we can find that won't take hours to eat. I crave the spinach and feta omelet from Applejacks diner that we ate two nights in a row because we missed our reservation at the gluten free Italian place and I long for the weird meat that remains a staple of the Hilton Garden Inn breakfast. MoMa is calling my name, and I laugh when I remember how we stood in separate ticket lines to see which one would be more efficient. I feel the need to wander the endless halls of the Met after paying fifty cents each for entrance like I feel the need for air. I miss the four hour bus rides filled with uncomfortable and uneasy sleep, and the crick in my neck that won't go away for a week. I crave hale & hearty soup, especially the hidden one at the bottom of Rockefeller square where we have to stalk the tables next to the Starbucks and follow our meal with coffee and a trip to the anthropologie that is practically next door. I miss the dingy bathroom in the bagel place where you need to bring your own toilet paper and pray you don't get yelled at for using the restroom without paying for something. I even miss that gross green tea drink I did buy there in an attempt to be trendy. New York beckons for me and I spend my nights trying not to answer its call.

Do you have any other passions?

xoxo, LC