“Do Not Tell God How Big Your Storm Is, Tell The Storm How Big Your God Is”

 ::From as far back as I can remember, I lived to write. On September 18, 2012 I moved from San Francisco to New York in hopes that I could write to LIVE. Please join me in my mis/adventures as I digest life in the Big Apple::
 
(written 10.30.12)
 

Sandy, you’re gonna need to calm the fuck down. I gots shit to do.

No one around me seemed to be worried about the Frankenstorm, so I kept my paranoia to myself but stayed at a friends house in Bushwick knowing there would be sinigang, and On Demand. You know, just in case. Asides from being worried about everyone else in NYC and in desperate need of fresh air and natural sunlight, Hurricane Sandy was a 48-hour slumber party for me. I almost feel like an asshole for admitting that.

I watched the news last night thinking to myself I moved to NY to miss the World Series parade for THIS? Then I woke up this morning with a roof over my head and my friends safe and checked myself. Of course I rather be in sunny San Francisco (never thought I’d be using those two words in the same sentence btw), but I am blessed and grateful to be surrounded by generous, selfless friends in the East Coast. And my thoughts and prayers go out to those less fortunate.

Prior to moving my three main concerns were: not finding a job, getting lost on the subway, and WINTER. Although I have yet to face the snow it’s safe to say two down, one more to go. I survived my first hurricane living in New York. Wow.

It seems trivial, but every time I sign onto Facebook or Instagram my heart aches a little a lot. Not being able to watch the Giants take the series amongst my bestest friends in the city I love is one thing, but missing the World Series parade is equivalent to me missing my mom’s birthday. Oh wait – I am missing my moms birthday. But like Terrence J. said, “Only you can determine the amount of sacrifice your dreams are worth.”

Universe don’t play, my dreams are Giant.

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