Why does sleeping in your ‘own’ bed feel so good? Dumb question, I know why. . . In any case, I have arrived back in New York with minimal jetlag and enough energy to perform at the Desk Set’s Biblioball–a benefit bash held by librarians to raise money to buy books for incarcerated teens. Finally I was allowed to meld my lives into one act–the Foot Juggling Naughty Librarian. Fun stuff. And the audience liked it too, especially the high school rappers 911Thesaurus . . . let’s just say it is nice to have fans.
On a more stressful note, the job I was returning to in Harlem was eliminated, and I have to move out of my apartment on December 31st. I feel like I am too old to be scrambling all the time, but here I am doing it again. So the decision-making process is in high gear: Do I stay in NYC and look for a new job? Or do I just get rid of my stuff and move back to Istanbul sooner than expected? Or do I go to Thailand or Laos and learn to make umbrellas while we wait for the Turkish military to finish screening Caravansarai (foreigners buying property in Istanbul must undergo screening by the military to make sure they are not a threat to ports or hardware stores. . .)? Or do I go to San Francisco and sell what I still have there and hang out with severely missed friends for a few weeks, go to Stockholm for a show, then back to Gdansk to see about out Summer Academy, and then back to Istanbul? But then when do I get to see my family and nephews or finish the projects I’ve started in New York?
My solution thus far has been to sit on my bed, playing the accordion and reading Bidoun magazine and to enjoy every moment of being here.