the new world

I am often accused of being provincial.

Perhaps if I were cooler and more cityfied, I would not be listening to Nina Simone in my kitchen, reading yesterday's New York Times and looking forward to a stroll around the block with the rent-a-puppy for a coffee and some new flowers.

But I am not. And if this is indeed what my neighborhood looks like at seven on a Sunday morning, why leave. I know I keep saying I don't belong in New York, but perhaps I have finally (four years later and still penniless) found my niche.

Thank you, Cristóbal Colón, for being such a lousy sailor and for quote unquote "discovering" an already inhabited continent; this day off is much appreciated. I get to digest yesterday (grand day of sports that it was) in the comfort of my sunny kitchen, rather than hunched before my workspace computer. I maintain, however, what I said in my fourth grade research report: you are no hero of mine.

I would gladly give back this day off. Gladly.