Ipods are ubiquitous in New York for a reason. We like to shut people out, even though the spaces we share are so connected. Today, I put mine on hold and listened. I listened to New York for the perfectly orchestrated chaos that it is. The man tapping his foot next to me as the cappuccino machine hisses, the pounding of a chopping board, the car horn outside and the chorus of New Yorkers talking about the weather, last night’s party, Marc Jacobs and Bush’s Iraq debacle.

Panninis, pretzels, people watching, English readings, war protests, and picnics. I really live for Saturdays. I needed a break from campus, an escape, a retreat and I got one. I went for a short jog and found myself laying down on one of the benches. I thought about how much love there is in my life right now and I started to feel the tears well up in my eyes. I swear I cry at everything. When I looked up, I realized I was underneath a weeping willow and I smiled. Nature can be so ironic.

Today is the kind of day that makes me want to call old friends, make new ones and think about how much I love the ones I have. I’m seeing streets for the first time, blocks I’ve come across before but never took notice of. It’s as if every awning, window pane, doorway and curb frames a scene with figures in slow motion. I could have stayed on that bench all day and stared at that tree, happy that I wasn’t the one doing the weeping.