Homesickness is a disease.

My sister and her best friend came into town for a vacation that totaled about 36 hours. In that span we took a crazy trip from LaGuardia in a cab, shopped at H&M, hung out in the East Village, made friends with my local cute coffee providers and movie renters and made a general mess of my room. We spent an inordinate amount of time lying in my bed and being silly and now I miss them more than words can express. It almost makes me want to give up on this crazy thing called New York and revert back to simpler times. I do like it here but nothing can replace the simple joy I find in getting lost in Queens with my sister because we can't figure out the bus system/are too poor to afford the bus so we decide to walk from LaGuardia, over the pedestrian bridge and to the subway. A beautiful day, oddities in Queens and a couple of cigarettes are all we need to have a strange bizarre time together. I wish she were here with me. This whole town would seem small and we would be unstoppable! I can't write about this anymore. I risk crying at the coffeeshop and embarassing myself in front of the cute boy the girls decided I should date since they both have boyfriends and don't live here. Not a good way to begin the relationship.