Ok NY, I get it. We all have bad days. Maybe I was a little rash dumping you like a Rock of Love bus girl on a Tuesday of all days. I know we can work this out and establish a solid frienship again; after all, you do have some redeeming qualities.
Of course I don't feel like listing them all right now, so we'll just pretend that I already have.
Besides, it might not even be your fault-I do spend the majority of my time in the Dirty Jerz.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Dear NY, I'm Breaking Up With You and I'd Like my Personal Space Back!
Its been three long years since I first ventured to NYC from DE and I've got to tell ya, I'm ready to move back. There are countless times each day that I curse my commute from a beautiful house in Bloomfield to the wicked grey garden of the City. If I could transplant the house and my job to greener pastures, I would; I can't afford the carry on fees.
New York, why do your narrow sidewalks always seem to be under the awning of construction? Why do tourists flood the sidewalk in zombie like droves like peaceful building watchers who clog the streets with flash photography and faux Louis Vuitton bags?
I'm so tired of waiting at a light and getting brushed in the back by one of your cynical city dwellers, pushing their way through a crowded sidewalk corner just to be the first to cross the street when the light turns green.
I'm tired of feeling so alone in a city full of so many people. In your efforts to make me feel part of your incrowd, I feel exhausted at your empty promises and seemingly endless diversity and I mean the crazy kind.
New York, I'm tired of feeling like a bad person because you've taught me that if I'm behind someone walking slower than I am, be it a Grandma or a toddler, that its ok to push past them briskly and say nothing.
I'm tired of politely holding the door open for rude commuters only to have them briskly sidle past me and step on my newly manicured toes.
And frankly, I'm tired of sitting closer to the stranger on the subway than I do my own husband at the movies.
New York, I've had it with you. And if Frankie says I can make it there, then I'm ready to make it anywhere else.
Its been fun.
H
New York, why do your narrow sidewalks always seem to be under the awning of construction? Why do tourists flood the sidewalk in zombie like droves like peaceful building watchers who clog the streets with flash photography and faux Louis Vuitton bags?
I'm so tired of waiting at a light and getting brushed in the back by one of your cynical city dwellers, pushing their way through a crowded sidewalk corner just to be the first to cross the street when the light turns green.
I'm tired of feeling so alone in a city full of so many people. In your efforts to make me feel part of your incrowd, I feel exhausted at your empty promises and seemingly endless diversity and I mean the crazy kind.
New York, I'm tired of feeling like a bad person because you've taught me that if I'm behind someone walking slower than I am, be it a Grandma or a toddler, that its ok to push past them briskly and say nothing.
I'm tired of politely holding the door open for rude commuters only to have them briskly sidle past me and step on my newly manicured toes.
And frankly, I'm tired of sitting closer to the stranger on the subway than I do my own husband at the movies.
New York, I've had it with you. And if Frankie says I can make it there, then I'm ready to make it anywhere else.
Its been fun.
H
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