You know that one Seinfeld episode where Jerry dates the girls who's completely perfect but everyone thinks is a complete loser? And he dumps her when his parents like her? Today I've been thinking that New York is the opposite of that. Everwhere you go, people heaping praise on New York City. Eventually, you start to buy into it. Call it peer pressure. It's like that girl in elementary school who was popular just because she was and no one could stop talking about how fantastic she was and how lucky they were to be associated with her. I distinctly remember thinking that it wasn't perfect when we first arrived, and now I can't really remember what exactly wasn't perfect about it. The subway elevators are stinky, yes, but stale urine can be kind of, I don't know, cool. Yes, it's impossible to push a stroller through a crowded grocery store, but did I really want to go grocery shopping between the hours of 7 am and 10 pm?
And then, when it's nearing the time to go home, I start to get really sad about leaving. I kind of want to see Central Park in the fall. I bet Christmas is so gorgeous in midtown. Spring? Fuggetaboutit. It's not that New York feels like home, it's like New York feels like feeling. It's like being alive times ten. It's uncomfortable and complicated and not always beautiful, but it's basically fabulous, and I want to come back.
1 comment:
I remember there was a girl at our high school who had spent some time in London and was always talking about how great London was. Once we went into a really gross, stinky bathroom somewhere, like at a public park or something, and she said, "Oh, I just love this smell! It reminds me of the Underground in London."
So maybe that's how you'll feel about public restrooms when you get back to Utah. They'll remind you of your happy times in the city.
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