Miscalculating My North Star in New Jersey

Sometimes commuting becomes it’s own lil adventure. I traversed from Roselle, NJ to Gutenberg, NY to meet with a good friend. She’s on a fast track to awesome as am I so these meetings of the minds conjure up some potent magic.

But before any masterminding is to take place, I need to reconcile with the transportation situation. We started Mercury Retrograde today and while yes it’s only official today, the shadow period before hand was jacking up my day-to-day since early August. I naively thought today would be different. I was wrong.

The entire time trekking and running for early train departures, I internally channeled my gratitude chica. I gave thanks for these first world problems and reminded myself to check my inner debbie downer. After each annoying hiccup I would repeat “It’s all good” to myself so that I can remember that negativity is a choice we allow our minds to partake in.

I don’t recall ever having to transfer at Secaucus Junction for anything other than maybe a concert back in the day. Even then it was to leave the station, not navigate the maze to Narnia. As the forever anti-social introvert, I gravitated towards the end of the platform without the crowd.


I thought I was clever and cute taking my Instagram photos of the train station, slamming it up with sparkly colors so it could look chic. In reality it was a dark train station in the middle of nowhere with no discerning higher purpose other than to divert NJ commuters from one train line to another.

To my surprise, the train crept up in front of me when in my mind it should have been going in the other direction.

This means I miscalculated my north star.

Well played universe!

As karma would have it, I had to run down the platform to enter the train in one of the 2 only available cars because…budget cuts. On my last stretch of the trip into Hoboken, aka Manhattan’s Mini-me, I was able to finally relax.

It’s worth noting that my stress level peaked on the first train, not because we were running late, but because I had forgotten how public transportation triggers my anxiety.

So while I was internally bitching about the Amtrak train in front of us causing me to miss my first connecting train, what my soul was really saying was please don’t someone start shooting up the train, don’t let anyone get stabbed and I hope there’s not some lone wolf bomber on the train.

Yes these are the thoughts I have EVERY TIME I get on a public train or bus, no exception.

Upon arriving at Hoboken, the smell of the sea water was refreshing. Sure it was laced with the smell of city but it still felt cool to be by the ocean. I love being by the ocean because…Pisces!

I began to wonder around like some tourist even though this was not my first venture to this cobble stoned street wonderland. I remembered where the nearest Starbucks was so I curtailed my ass to get my chai tea fix as I checked my time to make sure I wasn’t living up to the “Latinos always be late” stereotype.

Turns out I was doing good with my timing!

With my chai tea latte in hand, I hail an uber and opt for the car riding option because it was WAY cheaper and I was feeling adventurous.


As we drove around the winding parts of Hoboken, and I looked at the magnificent Manhattan skyline, it finally hit me…I was in a karmic relationship with NYC.

A karmic relationship is one of emotional scarring and manipulation. It’s one that’s so toxic that the only way to heal is to completely cut the ties that bind.

That’s how I feel about NYC and it wasn’t until now that I was able to put a name to it.

I’m always going to love NYC.

It’s where I was born and raised.

It’s where I learned to hustle and bustle.

It’s where I learned to drive like a pro and power walk like a boss.

It’s where I discovered adventures can be found by simply turning the corner block where on one end you’re in Alphabet City and the other end you’re in Stuyvasant Town.

It’s where I learned to honor the chaos of Canal Street as much as I appreciate the simplicity of Tribeca.

It’s also where I learned that poverty is not just a situation but a state of mind.

It’s where I was mugged 50 feet away from my apartment. Actually that was Brooklyn. 

It’s where I grew to resent myself for not living up to the NYC state of mind.

I love NYC for all that it is and in order for me to cherish the memories and experiences which shaped me I need to go. Not because I need adventures but because I need my soulmate.

NYC is my first love and the one you can never let go of. NYC is my “BIG” when the “right” choice was always Aiden.

I looked at the NYC skyline and had one of the most therapeutic yet melancholy epiphanies. I’ve been saying I need to leave NYC for some time, for the past few years to be exact. It wasn’t until now that it finally sunk in.

I got it.

Sometimes you wake up from the shell of a life you’re leading and you own up to the fact that you really were asleep this whole time.

I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that my waking life is not what I’ve been living and that’s no longer acceptable. Now it’s time to fully awaken so that I can kick start this new mercury retrograde cycle with a clear focus on where I want to be, even if that’s no where in particular.

The idea of being nomadic feels more like home than anything else.

For the record, I know I live in NJ now but I am always in a NY state of mind…