Separate

We spend so much time in NY trying to establish our own space, separate from the people that seem determined to invade it. I often think that the reason that iPods are so popular (and I spend time counting the number of people that I see with an iPod on my way to work) is that they allow us to carve out some time alone. When you're always in a crowd, the closeness can be too much sometimes.

[You do realize that when I say 'we', I mean 'I', right?]

However much we desire isolation, there is an equal yearning for connection. Which is why we'll spend time talking to a neighbor, or the woman on the subway whose toddler is asleep on your shoulder, or the dry cleaner who gives you a holiday present. Or the friends who see through your forced jokes and lightheartedness.

Relationships and emotional ties carry you through. Even when you push them away.

And now, I need to push aside this moodiness, and prepare a cup of the awesome that is me for JP's holiday party tonight. I'll start with the dry cleaner holiday present: a pair of pink rubber kitchen gloves. Random. And awesome.