Now That I'm Forty...


Born in New York and now going to die in New York. Someday.

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Now That I'm Forty...

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Tuesday, March 02, 2004

When I Turned Thirty-Eight...
... a year and a good number of months ago, I had come to the city to treat myself special. It was a little chilly as I recall. I went into the Village and found myself at the last avenue overlooking the Hudson. The recreation piers that they were building were not yet complete but there was plenty of jogging strip so I just sat on the curb and watched the sun set behind the Jersey palisades. I couldn't imagine where my life was going at that time. I couldn't even say what I wanted. I just knew that I couldn't let it meander away from me. Later I had made my way inland where I found a Jamaica restaurant and I splurged on Coconut Shrimp. I was not the only high-thirtysomething eating alone in that dimly lit place.

Now tonight, I had decided that instead of coming straight home, I'd take the #1 up Broadway and stop by Barnes and Nobles for a little free reading and some nighttime strolling. When I was done with that, instead of taking the #3 home, I'd go to the C train on Central Park West, as I had done the other night, and go among the 'beautiful people'. I found myself walking past the Heyden planetarium on 81st and for some reason I had the nerve to feel a little like I did on my 38th birthday. As if I was not heading where I wanted to. As if my future where hijacked somehow.

But that's not true. I can see myself as a practicing therapist. I know I'll enter in to my own. And the other day, I overheard a guy telling his buddy that he knew someone just finishing his doctoral work at 55 years of age. That's fifteen years away for me--why did I think I needed to be a doctor by 30 or else it would never happen? And how old ARE doctors supposed to be anyway? Well, as old as it takes if you ask me!

I see the apartments in the new buildings up and down Broadway and Columbus, all mixed into the street ranges of the 70's, 80's 90's, and I think "ohhhhhh, what do THEY do to earn enough to live there", as if I'll never be one of them? Why WON'T I be??

Yes, I will be.

Yes I will.

Yeppers.

You just watch and see.

Me at 3/02/2004 10:41:00 PM

Well, well, well....

I have two interviews this week for the position of therapist, one at a place that cares for the elderly and one at a place that services families.

*insert Snoopy dance here*

They are both north Jersey, where my license is good. (The Jersey board meets in two days to approve my senior license. The only benefit I found to having the junior license is to be able to say, "Yes I'm licensed" so the person calling for the interview won't hang up the phone in my ear.) I've ordered an EZ Pass for the highways. I'm going to switch to GEICO insurance because I couldn't get it in Jersey, and because I'm a New Yawka now. I'm gonna get me some NY license plates. Mess with me, and I might even get 'em personalized.

Now check this--
the 42nd St subway peddler? Tall, light-skinned brother with a cultured speaking voice? Afro and goatee, and reasonably clean clothes? Last night he started his shpeil and I suitably ignored. This may be the third or fourth time I've encountered this particular gentleman. (And yes, he is gentle--but he's not getting my money unless he mugs me.) Well, after his initial opening sentence ended with, "I'll even take a penny..." he went around getting what he could, and then called for our attention yet again, after he had us hostage between destinations. He goes, "Ladies and gentleman, I neglected to also inform you that I do take 10's and 20's."

Oh yes he did!

I died. I could NOT not laugh. This dude knew what he was doing, okay? But the only time he'll ever get my money is when I buy a ticket to see his opening performance on Broadway.

Me at 3/02/2004 07:46:00 AM