The wooing power of sirens

Last night, as I was doing some homework in my Darvocetted daze, I heard a SIREN outside in the atmosphere.

I turned off the rap and Adele music (don't ask) and just listened to that shrieking shrill across the vast desert of Utah nothingness.

It almost....ALMOST felt like NY again.

My room here is extremely NY-centric. I have magazine spreads and ads and the subway map plastered over my walls to help jog my fond city memories in the midst of Provo bleakness.

I must admit, it's kind of nice not walking out the door and seeing my money go down the tube. Everytime you walk out the door in NY, it's as if you open up your wallet and watch as the bills flutter away with bus exhaust.

I have never felt more impulsive nor more restrained as I was in NYC. Yet another paradox of that place.

Gah, I miss it.

I think one of the things these chic lit movies (Devil Wears Prada, 30 Going on 30, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days) aren't capitalizing on is how extremely fun and exhilirating the life is. They show a couple glamour shots at the beginning, and slowly make their way back to drab of the everyday, ending with that feel-good message to "be yourself" and "home is where the heart is" and what have you.

But seriously, the glimpses of glamour I got this summer were enough to show me it's worth all the heartache to be a part of again.

So yeah, I'm going to be making less than $30,000 a year, live in some 'pre-war' apartment in Murray ("Curry") Hill, ride the NQRW to 58th Street to my office at the Hearst tower at 57th and 8th Ave.

I tell my mom this and she agrees, it'll be as great as it seems.
Then stops to add, "well but don't be surprised if by age 30+ all that stuff loses its luster"

Sure. Fine. But that doesn't stop it from being illustrous in the here and now!

I've been planning, scheming and downright hallucinating my dreams for so long, I want them to just arrive already. Or I wish time actually went faster so they could happen RIGHT NOW.

But again, another theme of my life unearths itself, just waiting here, listening to the lone siren shrilling across the Wasatch Mountain plains... yet again, WAITING for my life to begin.