". . . oh time's a crooked bow"

There's nothing better than Spring in New York. People are everywhere, happy, laughing, enjoying drinks at a rare outside table, clamoring onto roofs to watch the sun set and to smoke that last cigarette. Yesterday was one of those evenings -- clear sky, cool evening air as my friend Wendy and I walked past Washington Square Park. Everything felt satisfying and when we took a cab back to Park Slope from the restaurant Blue Hill, the air running through the open window of the cab as we crossed the Manhattan Bridge, I felt so happy -- apart from not being able to sleep lately.

I've come to the realization that I can't remember the last time I slept through the night. Maybe it's why it now takes two cups of Gorilla Coffee to get me through the morning, but my sleeping pattern has become woefully punctuated by cat chases, car horns, the occasional gunshots, and my next door neighbor's alarm clock that somehow bleeds its sound through brick and plaster. Last night was especially bad as my cats Jasper and Theo spent the night crashing about the apartment. Around 3 am or so, after waking up to inspect what sounded like one of my lamps falling over and muttering obscenities angrily, I let the cats into the kitchen hoping it would calm their restlessness.

I just wanted to sleep.

But if there was an unintended consequence to navigating a darkened kitchen at three in the morning it was the rare glimpse of urban tranquility -- dark blues of a perfectly clear sky over slumbering Brooklyn homes and the fierce brightness of a very full moon. I stood there and watched as the silhouette of a neighbor's tree, moving softly with wind, sent patterns of moonlight against my body. The bright spot of a planet -- either Venus or Jupiter -- reminded me of astronomy books and long discarded aspirations. Calmed, I returned to bed and slept till my alarm rang for 7 am, two cats curled up closely next to me.

This is my 400th post, two and a half years of my life laid bare since leaving my hometown of Washington, DC. How many words is that? How many rants? How many entries where I opened myself up to people as far away as Australia and Croatia, revealing insecurities and heartbreak? Thank you all for reading and I do hope it's been somewhat entertaining. We now return to our regularly scheduled screwball adventures in OFAG.