the six year itch

i'm out of town almost every weekend, but i can't seem to escape. i don't know what i'm escaping from, only that i've had this constant, unshakeable feeling since the beginning of summer. the unspoken thought in my mind is, i've got to get out of here, away from this teeming city, confined to its tiny dot on the map...and away from the sameness of it all.

a couple weeks ago, i ran into a few people i knew in the space of a short afternoon...on the corner of 21st and 9th, near broadway-lafayette and in a subway car. i sort of took it as a sign that i've been here too long. but how long is too long? someone once told me that after five years, you're a new yorker. according to another source, it's 10, or once you've been mugged, whichever comes first. it's been six and a half years, and thankfully no muggings, but i have a new york license now. after six months of carrying an expired ca license, i finally gave it up, feeling a twinge of what, i don't know, panic? regret? guilt? when the lady at the dmv took it from me.

am i ready to go back? or go somewhere else entirely? questions keep swirling through my head, and i don't have any answers. when i first read an essay by joan didion called "goodbye to all that," i didn't understand...the paralyzing depression and the turning point...ending with a plane ride back to california. (and yet she lives here now). it didn't make sense. how could a story with such a hopeful beginning sour and end so abruptly? now i think i understand, at least more than i did when i first read it, six years ago.