The quarter life crisis: resolved

There is a moment in every aspiring Brooklynite’s life when she finds herself strolling down Smith St, listening to Hedwig and the Angry Inch– ice latte in one hand, recently- purchased Sven clogs in the other. And in that moment, the world, or at least that tiny patch of Boerum Hill,  feels like her oyster.

Today is my 25th birthday, and for the first time since the start of 2014, I am excited about the future. The Sikh astrologer I bumped into in front of my apartment affirmed my new sensation. He said today would mark the turning point to a year that has thus far dealt me some serious blows. And while he subsequently asked for $20 in exchange for his prophecy, I am inclined to believe him.

Though I have no concrete evidence to substantiate the prophecy of a better tomorrow, I’m listening to “Wig on the Shelf” and bopping around brownstone Brooklyn in the hopes of proving the adage “If you will it, it is no dream” true. After all, half the battle is psychological.

I’m also wearing color– something I try not to make a habit out of because I have a New York rep to protect. But today, or for the remaining hours of the 28th, I am breaking with the norm, sporting some sunshine, and daydreaming about the next mountain I plan to climb.

I’m also trying to channel some of the positive energy that birthed this blog. I began this journey when I had returned from my year abroad, when I still very much believed in the power of idealism. And while my idealism has been somewhat diluted, it’s still there– somewhere in the recesses of my body and soul.

This summer I begin the idealism revival. But first, a knish and beer tasting!



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