Things That Aren't There.

You'd think that living in New York City would provide no end of blog fodder, but lately -- and I'm a little wary about jinxing myself by admitting this -- things have fallen into an almost depressingly normal routine.

I think at least part of it has to do with the neighborhood into which I've moved myself. It's not exactly crackling up in Washington Heights, at least compared to midtown or downtown Manhattan, or even Brooklyn, for that matter.

I think I'm missing my friends at Total Wine Bar. I know I'm missing my old neighborhood.

And since I'm a "missing things" kinda mood, here are some other things I miss:


1. My mom. I don't see her enough. It doesn't help that her 76th birthday is coming up and I won't be there for it.

2. The Lagemæ. Kevin is working and going to school, and Kirsten is thinking about switching jobs. And they're house-hunting in Pittsburgh. And I miss seeing them every weekend.

3. Being on stage. It's been 4½ months since I've worked. To suggest that I'm freaking out would be a bit of an understatement. My friends in Corporate America should in no way take this as an indictment of their lovely company. It's just that my soul is atrophying. I'm just saying.

4. Milkshakes. Can't remember the last time I had one. Wait, that's not true. I had more than one while I was in Pittsburgh last summer. Yummy chocolate milkshakes. From Jitters Cafe on Walnut Street. Sometimes in the company of Jason.

Hmmm.

Focusing on things that I miss doesn't seem to be making me very happy. Perhaps I should stop thinking about this.