...and the blogger emerges.

New York, it's been close to a month.

And I think I am ready to write about it.

New York is growing on me. I think I want to belong here. I kinda like the quiet neighborhood where I live, but in a way I wish it was more of a front porch culture. The other side of our street is lined with apartment buildings. Mostly when you see people is when you or they are walking down the street.

This walking thing, I don't know. If I'm not going to talk to or make eye contact with anyone else as we rush about our respective business, I'd rather drive. That way it doesn't seem so queer that all of us are wrappped up in our own little worlds as we go about this thing called life. I keep wondering how Jesus would live in this neighborhood.

What I personally do with most of my time is...hang out with two year olds (and a few sweet babies). Seriously. I am hopelessly in love with this bunch of adorable, messy, rumbunctious kiddos. They try my patience, stretch me to the limit, and capture my heart.

I think this city is already stealing my heart. But I miss home, a lot lot.

God is so good to me (and you should have heard a cute little boy singing that song under his blanket today when he was supposed to be sleeping. He's going back to Argentina the end of this month. We'll miss him!)