A brand new start of it in old New York

nyc
This past January marked my New York City Five-Year-iversary and honestly, this place is nothing like I thought it would be. It’s special in a unique-to-me kind of way, a place where I gripe about how guacamole that’s made right at your table is delicious but overpriced, a place where I have become adept at garment profiling (the skill of knowing what Brooklyn neighborhood someone lives in based on how they dress) and it’s the only place in the world where cupcakes are a food group with no fewer than 90 articles written about them daily. But aside from one night when I was in Rockefeller Center and it was starry and dark no one else was really out walking and I passed a guy playing a saxophone and I just wished I had the time-stopping powers of Evie from Out of This World , I have not had many moments that the movies promised me. I think of New York as a magical place where lovers sit under massive bridges at night and watch sunsets and people get their cars out of parking garages to go pick up their friends from the airport and people in offices have brainstorming meetings where they all eat Chinese food out of white cartons with chopsticks. None of these things exist in my New York. What helps is knowing someone who lives near the Brooklyn Heights Promenade because the bridge thing is slightly more possible, but what is impossible is to turn the world black and white, so I will still find a way to be unhappy with the situation.

Also throwing my unattained-New-York-life-mentality for a loop is my love for peeping. Not like, trespassing on someone’s property peeping, just looking into well lit apartments with open curtains to see what furniture they afforded, listening to summery conversations and clinking dinner dishes that breeze out of open windows, catching a fellow F-train passenger’s weekend plans. These lives seem richer, somehow, than mine. Like they are living out something that I feel like I should be living instead. Whether they own the brownstone I’m standing outside of in a totally non-creepy way, have a big diamond ring from a Charlie-Sheen-in-Wall-Street fiance or have a Channel 13 tote bag that proves they are nicer than I am and support public television, I feel like their New York is the stuff that the myth is made of…my New York is the one that’s just glad it has digital cable but then it’s like “But you live in me, why are you watching TV so much?”. Yeah, my New York actually talks back to me.

I guess my problem is that I don’t know how to sell myself so that my own potential peeper-stalkers would be sustained by what they hear/see/privately investigate about me. People might think the stuff I’m up to is interesting but to me, since I’m not going to a Knicks game or jogging in Central Park or playing doubles tennis at an indoor court somewhere, it’s hardly worth talking about. Unless the outtakes of Annie Hall showed Diane Keaton heating up Lean Cuisine alone at 10pm or being on a subway train that the conductor has taken out of service because a homeless man pooped in the car next to yours, I somehow think my New York will never meet celluloid New York. But I will stay here at least 5 more years because my life is destined to Gothamize, I’m just sure of it. I was born to slap a man in Brooklyn and tell him to snap out of it, no matter if it’s the result of a passionate tryst or he’s a delivery man on a bicycle with no regard for my pedestrian rights. I will live out my life the way I always imagined it because if I want to become A #1, top of the heap, it’s up to me, New York.

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  1. Wow – I agree completely! Great entry. (Because I agree, and am self-obsessed.)

    • Reece
    • April 13th, 2006

    Oh! maybe? waiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. almost. no. sorry. nope.
    you ALMOST got me to move to ny. hee hee.

  2. Yay I have read this a billz times and I love it even more every time.
    I feel the same exact way.

    Also, please update! I’m impatient!

    • Lorne
    • April 26th, 2006

    need sustenance, please update.

    LM

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