First Saturday

I moved out of Camp Bella midday today, sad to say goodbye to not only the posh surroundings but the companionship. I've never done well wholly by myself -- I have a tendency to sink into myself and out of sight if I don't have someone around to report things to. This is what happened to me as a senior in college, when I retreated from college life to rather unhealthy level (couldn't face going to the dining hall, for example).

My sublet is ... a rather nice grad student apartment, actually. I was going to say that it was modest or humble, but it's actually quite decent. The kitchen, living room, and dining room are all one room roughly the size of my dorm room at school, and the entire apartment would fit into the kitchen and living room of Camp Bella, but it is quite enough for the likes of me. The thumping bass on the floor above or below me, however, attests to the fact that it is indeed student housing.

Yesterday was a slow day at the office. Having completed two assignments on Thursday, I wasn't eager to pick up a new one, so I tried to read the background material on the other assignment I have. I quickly realized I couldn't understand a word I was reading, so I started reading some background material on credit transactions, which was deadly dull. I have a feeling it would have been a lot more interesting if I had been able to understand the finance terms being tossed around every five words.

I bolted out at 5:45, unable to take the boringness, and it being a relatively nice day, I walked across town and up 55 blocks to Camp Bella. It wasn't so bad, except that I started needing a bathroom around the 60s, so the last 10 blocks were a little painful.

Mr. and Mrs. Camp Bella allowed me to treat them to an outstanding Peruvian dinner, which I think was the best meal I've had so far here, even including the first lunch at Gramercy Tavern. I tried ceviche for the first time, which is fish marinated in lime juice. For some magical reason, the acid cooks the flesh. It's amazing! And very tart. But delish. And the arroz con mariscos was SO flavorful and marvelous ... mmm. Perfection.

Mr. Camp Bella asked me about what I was going to do with myself, given my complaints about Mighty Big Law Firm even in the first week. It was a rather uncomfortable conversation, and it made me realize that I do have to think about this. A year from now, what will I be doing? Will I really come back to this? On the walk back home yesterday from the office, I had one of those moments of clarity, which do strike occasionally: "My god," I thought, "What am I doing? What have I done? This is not for me, no matter how much I try to rationalize it. I can force myself to do it, but it's not what I was meant to do. Not even close."

But Mr. Camp Bella pointed out, and I agree, that a job isn't always the be all and end all. It's lucky if you can find a job that you love with all your heart and wake up glad to do. But as my cousin once said when I complained about the boringness of law school: "Yeah. My job is boring too." There are much worse things than being paid an obscene amount of money to do monkey work.

Today, after a languid start to the day over the New York Times and a multi-section breakfast -- an amusing interlude where both Camp Bellas tried stuffing money in my pants (trying to pay me back for dinner, you see) just outside the cab -- I got to the sublet, chatted with the very, very pleasant resident of the this apartment, unpacked, considered going out for food, scrounged an egg and toast from the pleasant resident's leftovers instead, bade farewell to the pleasant resident when she left for Italy, and then set off to a night at the theatre.

One-Armed Maggie's mom was in town for a firm retreat, and so the Camp Bellas and she went to get discount tickets while I settled in, and invited me to dinner and Sweeney Todd. So, remarkably, I have already had a theatre night in my first week in New York. Thanks, Camp Bellas! Thanks, One-Armed Maggie's mom! The show was entertaining and directed in an unusual manner -- all the actors played instruments on stage, providing their own accompaniment.

I remember I did see a production of Todd when I was in college, but I remembered NOTHING about it. It was as if I had never seen it before -- which may be a testiment to the director's inventiveness, I suppose. But you'd think I'd remember SOMEthing of the storyline. I don't know, theatre rarely sticks with me.

Anyway, I am now home, with the music thumping (just like college!) and looking forward to a day tomorrow with the three Js, who have promised to take me shopping and deck me out with clothes for the summer.

And so in sum: ceviche and arroz con mariscos = AWESOME!, having lots of people visiting town this weekend = DOUBLE AWESOME!, Sweeney Todd = inventive and disturbing, dorm = very decent, and thumping bass = SUCKS the big one. On the whole, tilts rather toward the positive, wouldn't you say?