Untitled

It seems like a very long time ago that I arrived in this thriving metropolis to find myself alone in a white room looking out onto a brick wall. It was kind of metaphorical if you ask me--a symbol of my isolation and my inability to look through the window of my own perspective into a boundless future.

But I've come to respect this place. The city is, in many ways, just like me--living and breathing and beating. The subways like the blood running through my veins, deliver precious resources to the hubs--the heart, the liver, the lungs--the museums, the parks, the historic skyscrapers...
It's all a beautifully orchestrated, machine-like entity that never ceases to amaze me.





When I left off last, I was taking in the majestic power of the Lincoln memorial, but I think I'll jump ahead and tell you about my birthday.
I awoke on the 16th to a phone call. "Are you Rachel Adams"? a husky voice barked into the phone. I was annoyed at first, after all, who did this person think he was, calling ME and demanding to know my name? "I have a floral delivery for you downstairs." My attitude understandably changed.
I jumped out of bed, threw on my Oregon sweatshirt and sleepily descended the cold cement stairs in my building. When I arrived in the lobby, a huge plant was waiting for me wrapped in what appeared to be an entire roll of cellophane. I muscled it up the stairs as others in the building looked on, and I unwrapped the gift. The plant was beautiful; a peace plant from my parents, and its mere presence gave our sparsely decorated living room a lively feel. It had a huge red bow on the front and a lovely card. I smiled as I read it.

The rest of the morning brought even more surprises, as I opened mail and packages from friends and family including a collage from Marshall that read, "The friends you miss live at home, but true friends never leave you because they live in your heart". Emails poured in, and I felt very special, having been remembered on that day by so many wonderful people.

Unfortunately, the day took a turn for the worse along about 7:30. My friend Ben from my human rights class had called and confirmed our plans to go out that night, which we had discussed earlier in the week. He said he had a presentation to do at work, but that he would be available around 8:30 and would call back. I did some homework, got dressed, and sat down on my bed for a second. I woke up two hours later, and still, there was no message from Ben. Around about 11pm, I got hungry, and roamed the street for a bit, deciding to salvage the night by getting some elegant food and watching a movie. I bought smoked salmon, crackers, cheese, and fruit, and then decided to head over a liquor store across the street where I've heard they don't card. They must need the business from underage Columbia students. I walked into the store, and felt a little like a small girl about to hit her brother or steal another child's doll or something. I picked out a bottle of wine, and headed to the register with my cash in hand. I guess I figured that if the clerk saw my money, he'd be less likely to ask for I.D. He peered at me as he took my money. "You have I.D."? he asked. I tried to speak assertively. "I didn't bring it with me...I'm 23." He took the money. "Next time," he warned.

I made it out onto the street with my groceries and my wine, and I felt like the last hours of the evening might go off without a hitch. I stepped into the video store, and my phone rang. I set down the groceries and the wine on a futon they had in the middle of the display room. I saw the bags roll off the couch, and as I reached out to catch them, the bottle hit the floor with a smash. Wine spilled out all over their hardwood, and the manager came running over. Needless to say, he was not too happy with me. "Just get your movie and get out," he spat. I pleaded with him to let me help, but he just waved me away.
I guess that was just karma in action....like the universe was saying, "uh-uh, you've still got one year to go, girl."

Finally at home, I settled in with my movie and my spread. A few bites later, my stomach started to churn. I'll spare you the details here, but I spent the rest of the evening and most of the early morning "revisiting" the meals I had eaten over the course of the day.
Happy Birthday...

As I curled up on the cold floor of the bathroom that night, I couldn't help but wallow a bit in self-pity. I thought about all my expectations for that day. I expected to have friends to go out with, I expected my roommates to reach out and seize the opportunity to get closer, and I expected to finally start feeling at home here. It was just too much. All of those things couldn't have possibly happened all in one day, and I thought of all the people in my life that exceed my expectations every day. I remembered just how lucky and blessed I am to have so many wonderful people in my life. I am constantly surrounded by love and support even when I'm 3000 miles away from home in a white room that looks out onto a brick wall.

I thought of my parents, who know me and believe in me even when, especially when, I have trouble believing in myself. I thought of my grandparents who have shared so much of their wisdom with me and who see in me the potential for great success and happiness. I thought of my aunt Cindy and cousin Kim who always make me laugh with their silly jokes and cards. I thought of Paul and Holly and the kids who not only sang "happy birthday" to me over the phone, but who brighten any room with their warmth and affection. I thought of Pat and Michele and Ben and Aidan, who bring joy, energy, and laughter into the lives of our family. I thought of my girlfriends and friends at school who have given me a precious gift in their friendship, and who make me grateful everyday for my luck in finding such true true companions. I thought of Nick, who despite everything, has still remained my closest friend. And I thought of all my family and friends around the world who bless me with their love, support, and affection everyday, and to whom I hope I return even a portion of their gifts.

Thank you to everyone who remembered me on my birthday, and to every one of you who enrich my life in ways I will never be able to express. And as Marshall so eloquently reminded me that day, no matter how far I am from all of you, I always carry you with me.

Peace and Love,
Rachel