It's strangely odd, to be here, on the train, on my way to New York to dance for the last time there this year. I haven't really thought of the finality of this year, the feeling of finality, at least, until now, slowly. Last night I went out for the last time with a friend of mine this year. And there will be more "last times this year" in the remaining week, well, just five days, I am here in my town, then a little bit in New York, my home town, and then off to my little break during which I cross over to the next decade.
So it's also the last time this decade.
They say it's not so significant, all these dates, because they really are artificially imposed by us who live by the calendar. But feelings matter, and we feel a certain finality to things towards the end of December. A lot of people mark it by doing immense amount of shopping. Then making sure they meet everyone that need to be met, especially if they haven't seen them as a result of lacking an excuse. Then there's New Year's Eve, and everyone has some sort of sentimental mark about it on the calendars in their hearts.
But now I am sitting in a rather empty car on the Metro North to New York. Ironically, it is my first time taking the train to New York in the evening. It's usually a late morning or early afternoon train so I can enjoy New York in addition to any late night dance. But today I had my own final checklist to take care of, to make the digital presents for the people I finally found an excuse this year to send things to. And then I tried to sleep, to nap, so I can be more prepared for the long night. That didn't happen. I was just thinking and thinking.
It was also the first time I parked at the train station garage. I have never tried because it's always full during the day. There is always the red letters of the word "FULL" except for passholders. But today, in the darkness of the late evening, I was greeted by green letter of "ENTER". And after checking the price, quite expensive, I continued on, passing a long line of cars exiting the garage. It was strange to be inside this place. I had been here once to retrieve my bike when one time I biked here. Today I drove because there's a snowstorm coming and I didn't feel like dealing with the snow and my car tomorrow morning. I suppose I could have taken the taxi and deal with the snow tomorrow morning when I will need my car. And besides, maybe there won't be a lot of snow. Still, despite the hefty parking fee, it was a first time, and I often like first times.
It has also occurred to me that this is the last time I am taking the Metro North to New York this year, this decade. I will be riding in a car when I return there in a few days, and that's the end of that. I am glad that the last trip on the train to New York has already been memorable. There's a general hubbub about the snow that has covered much of the East Coast, and flakes have started to fall here; and the conductor had just said that there's already plenty of snow in New York. I don't have my boots, but I won't really need them for long since I will be changing into my dance shoes. It will be odd walking in the snow in the middle of the night in New York. Walking among those expensive apartments, where expensive apartments house expensive lives that will be getting ready to sleep. It will probably be festive too because this is the end of the year, with Christmas and other secondary holidays all crammed in at the same time, making lots of lights and other decorations in the city.
And then there's the ending. After it's over it will be another hour or two before the first train leaves. What will I do? Sit at a 24-hour diner for a while? I suppose. I don't even know if they will be open since there's snow and therefore fewer customers. I can always take the subway, up and down some line, hopefully safe. Imagine that's my last night out in New York, ending it with a subway ride until the first Metro North train gets ready to leave. Who knows what will happen. For some reason, I am not so concerned. I am in for some adventure. Keep an open mind. As long as my feet can walk and I have my wits about me, I can do anything. It will be cold, but so what. It will be dark, but there will be streetlights. Nothing will be open, but then the city is open. Of course, I can't be walking around with my thin shoes and even thinner socks.
And the dance itself? I wonder if they will do anything special since it is the last one of the year, of the decade. If they make it long, I will be very happy. But we will see. Life will arrange itself according to some method I can't understand or really need to. I will just do whatever the moment asks for.
