Sarah leaves in one week. Seven days. That takes my breath away, but you wouldn’t know it if you get within earshot of me. While Sarah Toy Story 3’s her room, I talk to her. I talk to her when we are in the same room. I shout across the house to talk to her. I stand outside the closed bathroom door and talk to her. What does all this talking sound like? Like this:
“And be sure to follow the laundry instructions on the tag and never leave your drink unattended and always have a working flashlight where you can find it in the dark and keep your phone charged.”
No matter how much I say, it doesn’t feel like enough. There isn’t enough time and I have a giant knowledge hole about all things New York. I feel like I should remind her to always keep enough credit on her Metro pass that she will never be stranded far from home. Then again, maybe not. I just don’t know. Is New York a ‘don’t talk to people on the elevator’ place? Are there restaurants that only the locals know about?
So, I need help. I need to know what YOU would say to a 17-year-old moving from Knoxville to Manhattan. You can leave me a comment or send me an e-mail. You can text my phone or call and talk to me. Send me a tweet. Leave me a comment on facebook. Please send me your wisdom. Just send it quickly, because . . . seven days.