Monday, November 24, 2008

The Night My Cat Saw Her Ghost (And So Did I)

I woke up to a strange sound. Eve was at the window hissing. Usually the window is open but because it was so cold, I had closed it. I pulled back the curtain. At first all I could see was that every time Eve hissed she fogged up the glass. It took me a minute to realize that on the other side of the glass was an all-white cat, sitting still as a statue, on the fire escape, just staring at her.

Friday, November 14, 2008

If You Can Make It Here, You Can Make It Anywhere, or, Kansas City, Here I Come

The time has come for me to say goodbye to the city I've called home for eight years. I spent the entire Bush administration in New York, and guess what? Now that Barack Obama has been elected President, I'm no longer afraid of the Midwest. But that's not the only reason I'm moving. I went home to do promotion for the book and fell in love. I've grown a lot in eight years, and so has Kansas City. I saw buses with bike racks!

When I left at 18, I was fleeing my Meth-ridden hometown of Independence (a suburb of KC) and a foreseeable future as a knocked up bank teller with dark roots and sweat pants. I can safely say I've evaded that path in life and I'm now free to live out my fantasy of residing in an amazing apartment in the urban center of a not so urban place (a place that's constantly changing, for the better).

And when I say amazing apartment, I mean you should come stay in my guest room. Then I'll cook you dinner in my fully equipped kitchen. I'll serve it via the butler's pantry and you'll be seated in the built-in bench in my dining room (the bench that's up against a bay window and flocked by two built-in China cabinets). While the dishes do themselves in the dishwasher, we'll retire to my front balcony through the french doors and sip whiskey while we look upon West 36th Street. When it gets too chilly, we'll go inside and sit in front of my tiled fire place. Before you sleep peacefully in the guest bedroom (which will be separate from my office, which will be separate from my living room, which will be separate from my bedroom), you'll soak in my claw-foot tub.

I'll be using all of that space to continue my freelance writing career (and my job at Nerve), and I feel like having more mental and physical space will really open me up to write the things I've wanted to write for a long time.

This is not to say I'm not scared to death. I'm scared of falling off the face of the Earth, and I'm just plain scared to leave. New York sucked me in and promised to never let me go. And that freaked me out. I'm not ready for the lifetime commitment. I certainly don't want to be that lady on the subway (you know who I'm talking about).

Lucky for me, as Gawker so famously pointed out last year, Kansas City is the new Greenpoint. I will find out if this is true and report back. Who knows? Maybe I'll hate it there and return to the original Greenpoint. But I'm going to give it a year. And in the mean time, I'll be back often.

I'll definitely be back for at least a week in April to attend a friend's wedding and meet another friend's new baby. I'll need couches to crash on and I'll probably want to go out for sushi and Indian and Thai food. And I will come back for the Casserole Party and other food/book related events throughout the year. But I see it this way: I leave New York in the summer anyway and I hate it here in the winter, so if I come back for a few weeks in the spring and fall I'm getting the best of all worlds. And I can spend my winters in KC sitting by my fireplace, sipping hot toddies.

Thank you all for making my time here amazing. It breaks my heart to leave. But I'm excited to start a new life with space and family and central air. Oh, and Dairy Queen. I have really missed Dairy Queen.