It’s good to live it again.

From Friday till Sunday I was staying in Brooklyn with my friend Derrick and it was gorgeous. Leaves in every conceivable autumnal color: golds, orange, brown, red. It was like that SNL sketch. It was like a Woody Allen movie.

For the first time I think I was able to clearly separate Manhattan from Brooklyn in my mind, and I came to the conclusion that Manhattan is fun but I’d rather live in Brooklyn. As Derrick said, "You can relate to it." And yet even so, I wouldn’t necessarily trade it for Chicago. It’s still expensive, confusing, the streets seem endless and have boring names. But it’s exciting. It’s like a bunch of atoms in a jar, colliding randomly and at great velocity.

Before I left for the airport Derrick and I took a long walk to Green-wood Cemetery and saw the parrots. Seeing them perched in their elaborate nests way up in the air, chattering like mad–I’d describe it as Tropical Gothic.  There were leaves all over the ground and tombstones sticking up every which way. Tour groups and people just walking around.

Walking through the city on Saturday night, every place was jammed. Bars, restaurants, lounges stretching out as far as the eye could see and they were all packed. Every conceivable combination. We went to a bar and I ordered a double whiskey for Derrick and a McSorley’s ale for myself and with tip it was $22. On Saturday after the screening, Jessi and Dylan and I went to a sort of sports bar around the corner, on Bowery, and it almost felt like being back in Chicago. Yuppies are the same no matter what city you’re in. We sat for a long time, reminiscing. Our own little group coming together from far-flung locales for a rainy afternoon in Manhattan. The Czechvar beer and turkey burger tasted good. We’re all old enough now that when we say, "Well, that was ten years ago," it’s actually fuzzy.