That seemed to be the theme of the weekend. Though Amy is English and not American (oh, the irony), we celebrated our freedom of living in the land of opportunity on this fourth of July weekend by doing all things luxurious: a night at the Ritz, far too much shopping, pedicures and even some good food.
It was as though New York had come to me. We laughed and caught up on the past few weeks, planned things we want to do in the coming months - even though we will rarely be in the same place.
It was a great weekend - and the first moment I felt a slight pang of homesickness. What's wrong with me? I'm living in heaven on earth; how could I miss, dirty, overcrowded, 104 degrees Fahrenheit New York?
Don't get me wrong - I am having the time of my life here and don't doubt for a second that I made the right decision in moving out. Yet, having a close friend come visit forced me to stop and think of all the people who I love that are so far away.
The past few weeks have been like a fairy tale, and it's as though I've been living in a dream - like at any moment I'd wake up and be back in my studio apartment in New York, with a distant memory of some faraway land that I once inhabited in my mind. That's how it felt when I returned from London. Both times - after studying abroad and working there following graduation.
Yet, this is different. There's no end date to this experience. I have no idea how long I'll be here, when I'll be going back. If I'll be going back. Is there really a way back, or just a way forward?
I've been here nearly a month now, though I have to admit that it feels like longer. I have fully exhausted "the honeymoon period." It's no longer novel and there's only so much longer that I can take advantage of being "the new girl." I'm not new anymore. Pretty soon I'll have a California driver's license to prove it.
And this is where reality sets in. The gilded introduction will start to fade and I'll begin to make my true assessments of this place - what I like (the weather!) and what I don't (the separation from family and friends). I'll weigh the pros and cons, and determine whether this is someplace I can see myself long-term, or if it's merely a stepping stone to someplace new.
As I feared, the melding of my New York and Napa lives this weekend served to throw me into an introspective frenzy (in case you couldn't already tell) and by the time the fireworks went off on Sunday night as we watched from Alston Park, I was beginning to see the merits of both coasts. I love being here, but I also realized that there are things that I love (and miss) about New York, something I never thought I'd hear myself say.
Like pizza. They just don't know how to do it here. Though, they did give New York's Keste a run for its money at Pizzeria Delfina in the Mission in San Francisco. The funghi with the Casa d'Ambra Aglianico was quite good.
Despite a relaxing weekend, I woke up this morning exhausted, and I think that had a lot to do with the emotions flooding my mind. I've been having weird dreams the past few nights, the kind where I wake up in a pool of sweat, not sure if what has just happened is reality or fantasy. My roommate, Gary, said he always experiences the same thing when he moves to a new place, that my dreams are likely being triggered by having a friend from home come visit.
Whatever the reason, I've been in Napa about a month now and this is my reality: a fourth of July barbecue at my new home, with good friends - old and new. It can't really get any better than that.
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