O sleepless night. O memory lane.

April 1, 2012 § Leave a comment

Dear pre-dawn New York,

It’s that curious hour when it almost doesn’t quite matter anymore whether I try to go to sleep again or just hit the coffee and start my day. It’s been a lovely night of relaxation and quality personal time, though. Some successful runs of online sudoku, a few chapters of Bossypants, catching up on my Daily Show and Colbert Report, and discovering some delightful punny and instructional ditties about solfege and modes and chord progressions from a beloved voice teacher I knew at Davis. Oh, life is beautiful. And hello, April!

This certainly brings back memories from when I was seven years younger. Oh, those Yolo County days. I can smell the warmth and pollen scent of the spring air, and the hallways of that music building are clear in my mind, as are the half-finished furnishings of my old Sundance apartment. (I really wish I could say that my interior decorating situation has drastically improved over the past almost-decade.) I certainly had a more definite life plan back then, albeit one that changed dramatically and often.

What words of advice or encouragement would I offer to the nineteen-year-old version of myself if I could? Maybe, don’t worry, you will make it to New York in due time, just not in the way that you think. Also, many of your closest friends today will still be your closest friends when you are twenty-six; You will get better and better at running; Your heart will continually break but it will also continually heal, and you will gain so many fun and meaningful experiences and learn so much about both yourself and other people because of it; Be more patient with your grandmother while she is still here; and maybe there’s nothing that you will do today that you will regret in seven years so just relax and enjoy yourself more (but never drive sleepy, and  it’s still probably a good idea never to hitch a ride in any strange vans ever. Ahem.). 

It might be easier to give good advice to other people than to yourself.


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You are currently reading O sleepless night. O memory lane. at On the road to Marathon No. 1.


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