Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Missing NYC

I'm starting to miss things about New York. I've been in Orlando for almost 3 years now--where the hell has the time gone? I don't miss the overcrowded streets and subways or the rotten attitudes of New York. But I do miss the characters. And by this I mean the drug addicts, sex workers and other fuck-ups who try to blend into everyday life. I don't mean the street junkies and prostitutes. I spent several years working in some of the world's top law firms in NYC. I had a supervisor addicted to heroin who also sold himself for extra cash on occasion. I worked with several other druggies as well. Many co-workers didn't have a bank account--they kept what little money they had under their mattress. I knew several paranoid people who were convinced the government was watching them and that aliens had blended into our environment.

In Orlando I work with the dullest people in the US. No one here cares about LIFE. It's all about their homes and yards. One needs to be surrounded by people from all levels of life to be comfortable. You need those doing better than you as well as those doing worse. And New York was definitely that. I felt I belonged there. I didn't own any property and was a bit lost in life, but I wasn't a drug addict or forced to sell myself for money. I felt good about myself. Here in Orlando I feel totally lost and depressed. Sure I'd love to own a home, but never before have I felt so much pressure to buy one. Everyone here owns a home. No one here seems to have any problems. I have a better job than some(for now) and am ten times better at it than the other guy who works with me, but he owns a home. I have to remind myself that I chose the road less taken. Sera and I had money for a home a few years back, but instead opted to travel the world. It was my dream, and Sera wanted to fulfill it with me. No one here has ever left the US, much less Florida. I could have a home and stability, but I never would have traveled. Hopefully I can still own a home one day, but it's harder to travel in the Third World when you're older.

By the way--I had an odd dream the other night. A girl I must have slept with years ago showed up with a baby girl that apparently was mine. She named the baby Francine. I didn't like the name, preferred something like Alexis, and was upset that she named the child without even asking me. What the fuck kind of dream is that?

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