Good morning, Monday. Been a while, my loves. Have you missed me?
Before the status meetings begin, the phone starts ringing and the emails start flying, I wanted to say that I feel blessed.
It's been a pretty stress filled couple of weeks, but this weekend was so perfect and wonderful it made me realize how lucky I am. And though David and Khan are the true loves of my life, New York is right up there for me, and always will be. Yea, I read the Times piece this weekend on the formidable literary movement known as "Adios, New York" - writers like Joan Didion set the bar very high when it comes to leaving here with great aplomb and wisdom. And artists like David Byrne threaten to leave because New York just isn't the same anymore- the grit is gone, the challenge of finding affordable living spaces is worse than ever, and the white collar antics of the 1% has stolen the thunder from a more creative class. I'm not disagreeing. But here's what I will say.
Despite the stress, headaches, crowds, and general feeling of never having enough money to live here the right way, I love New York. I will always love New York. I love my Brooklyn neighborhood more than I can express in this post- and though I'm eyebrow raising at Intermix coming and the influx of big chain retailers eyeing up spaces (more than eyeing up, moving in), I still cherish our farmers market on the weekend- the excellent cheesemonger whose dairy gifts are part of my Sunday breakfast and the turkey vendor whose spicy sausage makes it into our Sunday dinner every week, without fail. Coming back to New York at this phase of my life is not without challenges or the need for better eye cream, I admit there are harrowing moments that make me question my sanity. But to be able to walk around my lovely 'hood on the weekends and have access to all of the fantastic things New York City has to offer still gives me the chills. In a good way. To be able to enjoy the coziness of my New York apartment while reading loads of magazines while knowing there is a whole heaving mess outside to explore makes me giddy. Still. There's still great equity for me here- I still love those amazing New York faces that manage to make eye contact with you on the street, the buzz of some new gallery opening or store popping up that inspires and affirms your pulse can still quicken. Oh, and Fall here? Well worth the price of admission. Every penny.
I still feel more at home here than anywhere, and despite all of the changes, I love being a New Yorker, love dressing like a New Yorker, love thinking quickly like a New Yorker, and above all, being cynical like a New Yorker. I left here for what seemed like a century, only to come back and realize how much I love it here. Who knows, maybe one day I'll be saying goodbye like Joan Didion. Or thinking like Ann Friedman, whose essay as quoted in the article notes "New York is not just a guy, it’s that guy." She says, "I’ve always been partial to the friendly guy who doesn’t know how hot he really is (Chicago) or the surprisingly intelligent, sexy stoner (Los Angeles),“as opposed to the dude who thinks he’s top of the list, king of the hill, A-number-one.” And though I probably skew more in smart and sexy stoner land these days, I think I'm gonna stick around with Mr. Type A a bit longer. After all, marriage is supposed to be challenging right? New York, I admit it, I still love you. I don't think I'm going to be ready to say goodbye again for a very long time, though I understand why people need to leave you. And though you are an expensive date and a bit pretentious at times,you still give me so very much. I just can't quit you. New York, I invest in your madness every day because the return is worth it to me. Who else could I really be with anyway? I may be one of the biggest commitment phobes around when it comes to really putting down roots, but New York, I remain yours, and hope you will always be mine. Somehow you always take care of me- by continuing to inspire me despite the stress, impending cold weather (it's here), and radiator heat. It's not easy to keep things interesting, but somehow, you always manage to hold my attention, you cuckoo, chaotic loon of a city. I still really do love you. Cause you're still crazy after all these years, just like me.
Cause that's what's up this keeping the New York dream alive kind of Monday in the 212. There's nothing you can't do...let's hear it for New York. XO