how the west was lost

It happened Thursday night with JP and Meatcute, then again last night with EMC and Adam.
I keep getting lost in my new neighborhood.
Now, "lost" is a relative adjective: I always know where I am.
Sort of.
It's just that the streets get all weird and Twilight Zoney south of 14th, and it's easy to get turned around. I mean, when you look up and realize you're at the intersection of 4th and 10th streets, there's obviously something not right.
Both nights we were trying to find food, and both nights we put our names on the list at Westville, but ended up going someplace else because of the long wait.
After dinner last night, I said good-bye to the boys and set out confidently in what I thought was the direction of my new apartment. Several blocks later, I realized, oops, I'd somehow drifted into a corner of the Village that was completely foreign to me. For just a moment, I felt like I was 11 years old again, getting lost in the wide patch of woods near my grandparents' house. In both experiences, the terrain would suddenly go from familiar to a view wholly unexpected: Is that the hill I just walked past? Can I see 7th Avenue at the end of the next block, or maybe I'm totally turned around?

Last night I stopped, caught my breath (which was visible in the chilly January air), and decided to wait a second while my inner compass clicked back into operation. The street was silent and empty. Such a strange sensation. I finally took a right, and realized my building was just around the next corner.