Heather had a million reasons to move to New York City. I was the least of them.
Still, I lobbied heavily in favor of the move, not so much to further our relationship (I was, not surprisingly, single at this point but remarkably weary of getting involved in anything).
I told her (rather arrogantly and somewhat in jest) as often as she would listen that New York is Varsity. "You've played JV," I'd type. "Come play Varsity. Step it up."
I goaded her. I teased her. And I laughed with her. But only because I knew she could do it. She has the moxy, the hustly, the smarts.
"Picture yourself in Times Square tossing you barret into the neon-splashed sky."
In a matter of weeks, Heather was knocking on my door. In her left hand, a garment bag, in her right, my hand-made "Welcome Home" sign, and on her face, a wide smirk.
"You're gonna' make it after all, baby."
That Heather had the courage to pick up and move her life in a matter of weeks says a lot about who she is. She got a new job in a heartbeat. And she had the flexability to change her vision for herself on a dime. She packed up an entire Boston life (with the help of her Boston friends), pointed it south, and only looked back long enough to be grateful. I never once heard her complain, or whine, or wish she were somewhere other than she was.
That Heather had the courage to pick up and move her life in a matter of weeks also says something about who her friends are. The Tribe (as they call one another -- I'm pretty sure I'm not included amongst them) is close, and reliable. They welcomed her amphatically, carried boxes, poured red wine and dried tears when Heather's beloved cat made himself scarce.
Heather stayed at my apartment for a week. I was pretty squirly about it. I helped as best as I could. I was good for a supportive conversation, a home cooked meal and a beer, subway directions and a cup of coffee, but I was distant. I was scared. I didn't want her to get too comfortable in my little bachelor world (as if that was possible). But it's not about me: it wasn't then, and it isn't now.
This Fish doesn't need a bicycle, she wants one. And that's the best reason of all.
Tomorrow: My Friend Fish
Like H's posts I have come to anticiapte your guest ing posts for a good morning read. It's nice to turn the story and view it from a different angle.
Cheers to you for taking it on.
I love the posts! Thanks for giving us something else to read other than the normal poli-rants.
Posted by: Christiane at November 4, 2004 10:30 AMI love seeing Fish in this light. It's very refreshing and she is truly an amazing woman. Thank you for sharing.
Posted by: Carrie at November 4, 2004 12:23 PMOh my word - that is too beautiful! More, more, more, please!
Posted by: racheblue at November 4, 2004 01:42 PMHonestly, I hate this blog, and 99% of what is posted on it. You people are really full of yourselves. NY isn't Mecca, Valhalla, or the Holy Land. It's a city, same as any other.
Get over it, please.
Posted by: Victor at November 4, 2004 03:11 PMThen why prey tell do you read it?
Posted by: Why? at November 4, 2004 03:45 PMGive us more naughty stuff!
Posted by: Sara at November 4, 2004 04:22 PMVictor. About New York - yes it is. About this blog - don't like it? Don't read it.
Posted by: k at November 4, 2004 04:45 PMPlease don't feed the trolls.
Posted by: NEIN at November 4, 2004 04:55 PMHeh, I've only been here twice (three if you count this), and this time was at the request of a friend. Believe me, I'm from NY. It's great, and it's fun, but it's not some evil monster that eats people whole. it doesn't take a certain type to "survive" there. Honestly, get over it people.
Posted by: Victor at November 4, 2004 07:06 PMShoo
Posted by: Pfft at November 5, 2004 12:34 AMI never intended to post here but I really enjoy this blog. You lucky bastard to know fish.
Now when was that she is coming back? She writes with a faster paced style. I miss that but thanks for filling in. It would be boring to not have anything here.
I worship New York, I worship This Fish, and now I worship you. It would be difficult for anyone to match the poetry of the Fish, especially a man. (I say this as a relatively poemless man myself.) You have gone farther this week than anyone could hope. I've got a new read.
Posted by: Clint at November 5, 2004 10:55 AMawww, c'mon...boston = j.v.? don't we at least make the varsity team, even if we have to sit it out on the bench?
thanks for filling the space.
Posted by: jennifer at November 5, 2004 01:49 PMI'm gonna be a nitpicker...the cat who disappeared was a she...and a very pretty she :)
Yes, I'm one of those people that make people refer to animals using the correct gender.
Posted by: me at November 5, 2004 01:50 PMJust found this blog. Reminds of the flavor or those wonderful years I spent in NYC at the same age as a bachelor and my wife a bachelorette. Cherish it while you can!!!
Posted by: Richard at November 14, 2004 10:14 AM