One Year

I had this unvoiced, ever-so-cliche plan to become a better Leslie in New York. And, I got here and I was pretty much the same Leslie. It’s hard to change. And, maybe deep down, I didn’t really want to. I think what I wanted was for certain other people in my life to change and I’ve come to learn that doesn’t happen easily either.

I thought I would shed my tendency toward homebodiness, pseudo-shyness, and occasional awkwardness. But, my plans to become un-lame-o weren’t so much fulfilled. My clothes still mostly come from chain stores. I still really like reality television. I still look like I’m playing dress up when I wear lipstick. I still worry every time I’m in a public bathroom stall that I accidentally walked into the men’s room.

I suppose I’m not exaaaccctly the same as I was a year ago. I’ve come to appreciate public transportation, started writing and drawing again, and learned a lot about cereal. I’ve also accomplished a few things like getting promoted, running a half-marathon, and surviving a traumatic vegetarian duck experience in Chinatown.

I’m glad I gave up elbow room for a little adventure. I can’t believe it’s been a year. Happy anniversary, New York. Here’s to another year of a lot more of the same.