Dear beautiful collection of keep-me-going’ers…

I woke up on a sunny day in Melbourne this morning, let the puppies tear me around the neighborhood on the bike, spoke to a couple of my favorite people in New York City, then set off for an aimless wander. Naturally my laptop was snugly tucked in my backpack because I’m getting back in the habit of taking it everywhere.

I have a book to finish.

I ended up at a French cafe that specializes in handmade chocolates and cocktails. As much as I’m a huge fan of both, it’s a bit early, so I settled for black coffee.

I stared out onto Bridge Road watching traffic cruise up and down in this land so far from the closest thing I consider home. I say that New York City is the closest thing I consider home because as someone convinced that I must be a creature from outer space, specifically the Lyra constellation, there’s only so much Earth has to offer.

I digress…

You know those moments after you’ve been through something really icky when you finally say, “Fuck. That was actually terrible. But I honestly have to get past it…”

I totally had one of those.

FollowMeToNYC actually began at the start of an acceptance. Only rather than facing something terrible, I decided to build a webpage, run away, and practice perfecting avoidance techniques. Not sure why or how… maybe it’s the detox… but I’m finally willing to face up to certain things.

I won’t get too deep into them now… they’re in the book. But I will say. For the first time today rather than hyperventilate to facts of life like, “How the hell did I end up 10,000 miles from the most important people in my life?” and “I’m 32… is this seriously it?” I sipped hot caffeine, listened to a cafe host named Tony sing along with the opera music currently playing, fired up my dinosaur white macbook and asked, “Excuse me Tony, what’s the wifi password?”

“Working on a Saturday?” he asked.

“I work every day.”

“Marshmallow.”