My nieces, little sister, and I finally got a long overdue power meeting on the books for this past weekend. Over cups of hot chocolate and pbj’s sans crust, we debated life’s biggest questions- the no holds barred topics that kids only discuss with their cool aunts over a game of “Would you rather?”
Would you rather go to Hawaii or the North Pole, knowing you had a chance to see Santa?
Would you rather have no friends or 20 awesome friends that no one else can see or hear?
Would you rather kiss a toilet seat or poop? (My youngest niece is still trying to get the hang of this.)
A particularly revealing tidbit is the fact that I am the only person on earth who think that the Tooth Fairy is tiny..like, TINY. Have you ever seen that Shredded Wheat commercial where the piece of cereal has little stick arms and legs? That’s how I picture the Tooth Fairy. My sister nearly spit her Hot Chocolate out
“What are you talking about? She is a full-size person!”
“She is definitely not. Maaaybe she’s 2 inches tall. And she’s not a person. She’s a tooth! Well, a TOOTH person!”
My nieces think I’m nuts, too.
If the Tooth Fairy is full-size, does that mean the Easter Bunny doesn’t wear a bow tie?! And if the Easter Bunny doesn’t wear a bow tie, does that mean Santa can’t wiggle his nose to zip through keyholes of houses with no chimneys?!
My mind is blown.
The word “adventure” has been thrown around a lot since my New Zealand plans were made public. “What an amazing adventure for you!” I have to agree, but I’m slightly terrified since I’m the one who actually has to go on said adventure.
I wasn’t expecting it to kick off so early with the transitional move upstate. There was the hike from hail with my little brother, commuting at 6:40am with an old family friend who I can still picture tripping a dozen of my classmates on the group merry-go-round when he fell down in 2nd grade, but who now works in finance. And now…chicks! Real live baby chicks in my sister’s bedroom when I got home last night…live tweeting right next to us in our pajamas watching the Real Housewives of New York. Bekah is disappointed she didn’t get any of the classic yellow. Her batch were are all black and white with the exception of one fresh little brown chick whom we’ve named Brownie McGee. He’s cute as hell, but the minute you put him on newspaper he poops his brains out. Nervous poopies. I get it, Brownie. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now.
But I’m good with this little Mixed Chick right here. She’s out there in there world, handling herself, taking it all in. I hope I can be as cool as she is New Zealand.
I’m currently upstate biding my time rent-free before I take off for New Zealand. That means picking up skim milk at Shop-rite for your sister, running into old teachers you haven’t seen since 4th grade, and exchanging things…always with the exchanging things. Why is it that when you go home you have to run to the mall to exchange something every single day?!
A gigantic plus to Upstate is the Appalachian Trail which is just down the road from Shop-rite. No one ever gives real directions here. It’s all, “just past the old ice cream stand near the sneaker store.” Or “if you take the backway, just make a left at that place where they used to do the ski swaps.” That direction would have been way more helpful to me if I had ever been in the Ski Club.
So when my brother Aaron said we should go for a hike after his appointment around 2, I had no problem changing out of my pajamas and into jeans that I know are way too old and gigantic. (Working from home is the Bees’ Knees!) In my mind, ticks would never clown around weak-ass jeans like those. Never mind that I almost died of heat stroke. If you were lucky enough to be hanging out in your pj’s mid-afternoon in my neck of the woods, here’s what you would have overheard:
“I don’t think I’m going to take my camera. It’s gonna rain.”
“No, you have to. It is definitely not going to rain.”
“Dude, look at the clouds!”
“Sarah, it says there’s a 40% chance.”
“I got news for ya’ Aaron, that’s a pretty good chance.”
“Ughh why am I always surprised by how hard hiking is?”
“Bekah thinks you hate it…”
“I don’t hate it! I’m just… surprised!”
“We’re almost there. We have to take pictures quick. See those clouds, that’s all rain. See, I told you it was DEFINITELY going to rain.
“I am going to freaking kill you.”
“Seriously we gotta start going back.”
“Oh my god, is that hail?! Seriously Hail! I haven’t seen hail in 10 years.
“Keep going, Sarah!”
“I don’t wanna break my neck, Aaron. Oh my god, I’m totally creeped out. What if we saw the Faun from Pan’s Labyrinth out here!”
“Ughh don’t.”
“I swear I would never leave the woods. I wouldn’t be able to recover. I would just stay with him on the Appalachian trail and do his bidding.”
“The clearing is right up here. Aaaaaand it stopped raining.”
“Goddamit!”
“Now what?”
“Don’t we have to stop at Shop-rite?”
“For what?”
“I don’t know. Don’t we always have to stop at Shop-rite?”
Phase 1: Move out of apartment in Astoria.
Phase 2: Store worldly goods at family’s house upstate. Crash there for two weeks.
Phase 3: Board plane for New Zealand on May 16th.
Phase 1, complete… complete with tears from saying goodbye and taking these pictures on my last day.
Complete with two final slices from my favorite pizza joint on the house, “You’re going to miss this in New Zealand!” Complete with Astoria’s own miniature Lords of Dogtown who are in love with pictures of themselves in the best kid-confident way “Oh my God! Yo, that looks so realistic!” Complete with the Greek waiters I passed everyday on my way to the train wishing me a safe journey. “Tell us when that picture is in the New York Post”.
9 years of friends made just by walking out my front door every morning and passing families sitting on their stoop, friends sipping their Greek coffee. In Astoria, there’s no need to work hard to make connections. It’s just outside of your building waiting to say hello and give you a great slice.
Astoria taught me the value of community, and I feel lucky to have been apart of it.
I feel complete.
April 28, 2010 – 10:36 am
I am currently drowning in bubble wrap, drinking glasses, and my own tears which are flowing at an alarming rate. I am not joking when I tell you I cried three times before noon today. My family doesn’t call me “Sensitive Sarah” for nothing.
Just a heads up that it’s going to be a little quiet here for the next week as I move out of New York City and into New Zealand. This a very exciting thing to do, and a very hard thing to do. I need all of my brain cells to get through it.
I knew you would understand.
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