THESE ARE A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS…

A few of my favorite things about NYC/ Reasons I will probably never leave this great city unless it’s to live in a cabin in Maine…or somewhere fancy in Europe… or…

Ok here we go:

I love New Yorkers. I love how they come in every variety, just like bagels. I love authentic Upper West Side women with their linen clothes, butch hair cuts, and funky glasses. I love when New Yorkers defy stereotypes, like the one that says all New Yorkers have to be rude. We aren’t all rude. Sometimes we are really nice. Sometimes we like to assist tourists when they are lost, or give up our precious seat on the subway. Antithetically, I also love that New Yorkers are often united in their opinions on certain things. They tend to be a fairly open minded bunch and often lean towards the liberal side of life, and those are my kind of peeps.

I love that I can do or get almost anything at any time of day. Want cookies at 2am? They can be delivered. Want to learn lightsaber fighting? There’s a class for that on Thursdays at 7 (I’m not kidding: check it out). This can be simultaneously wonderful and stressful. Perhaps this is more a product of the era I am living in, but the fact that so much is available to me at any given moment has given me slight commitment phobia. NOT in my relationships (heyyyy R0) but in terms of choosing restaurants, coffee shops or even careers. Despite my slight commitment phobia, I’m sticking with all of this being one of my many favorite things about New York.

I love the family I have created here. True, this isn’t specific to New York because I would have created one had I grown up elsewhere, but I love the qualities they have BECAUSE they are New Yorkers.

I love the daily New York-y vignettes. Let me explain. My mom is one of the most cheerful people you’ll ever meet. If you were stuck on the subway with her for five hours underground, she would make it feel like it was your birthday party. When I was younger we would walk around the city and she would point out the most mundane things and exclaim “look at that! Isn’t it beautiful! I love this city.” At the time I rolled my eyes as most too-cool-for-school adolescents like to do. In retrospect, I’m so glad she did that. Now I walk around and look down grungy New York alleys with garbage bins and fire escapes and think, what a beautiful site. It’s so “New York!”

Growing up, if we didn’t eat at the diner on the corner of our block, my step-dad would go to the corner coffee stand. He would get us a classic New York coffee in the classic blue paper coffee cup and a crappy un-toasted bagel with a square of butter that they were too lazy to actually spread. I LOVE this. I would not trade this experience for anything. My mom didn’t wake me up with a gourmet meal on the dining room table in our cute suburban house on our cute suburban street. She DID wake me up with James Taylor on the cd player and views of this beautiful city in every visible direction. I couldn’t be happier to have had that experience.

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