Nostalgia

I forgot how much I liked the East Coast since my two-year absence on this side of the county.

There's a sort of serenity sitting in a bus, overlooking traffic, soft and heavy raindrops dripping down the sides of the windows as the city's bright lights glisten across the horizon refracting in the water pouring from the sky. Traffic hums noisily outside and blaring horns are just as common as birds chirping outside the window in this urban jungle.

I forgot about the road rage all New Yorkers have in common, along with their borderline-obsession with the Yankees.

As I sit here we're halfway to Times Square. Halfway to white might possibly be the most multiculturally rich city in the country. The landing spot for thousands of immigrants hoping to delve into their fair share of the American dream.

What I look forward to most is tasting their various cuisines brought back from "home," another corner of the world.

I can't wait to bask in Times Squares' abundant light, glitter and overall insanity.

I really do love New York. Being the city girl that I am, I could certainly live here. I recognized that the moment I felt a tinge of jealousy for the students at Iona College, dressed in their heavy pea coats, trendy coffees in hand, As the autum leaves danced down from the treetops and onto the sidewalk.

Now I remember why I wanted to move out here when I was in high school.