Just as I was walking out the door for water aerobics this morning, my phone rang in my backpack. I dropped everything, fished it out and answered it, only to not be able to hear anything because I had stopped right outside the door of an apartment that contains two yappy little dogs who were yapping at their door because DANGER! DANGER! PERSON OUTSIDE DOOR! DANGER! DANGER!. It was water aerobics, cancelling, as I figured out when I happened to finally catch the words at a moment when the yapping was slightly quieter.
Blissful extra hours of free time ensued. I love water aerobics, but it's not too upsetting to be told that you don't need to get into a cold pool as your first activity of the day. And since the gym is near school, I end up taking a shower there and drying my hair under a hand-dryer and all that. Not sorry to miss that. But I still wanted exercise, so I did some of the core-strengthening exercises in the living room while watching an infomercial for acne products (only because I couldn't quickly/easily find the vcr remote to change the channel - I've never actually heard Jessica Simpson talk before this infomercial, but as it turns out, she sounds more ditzy than I expected). Then I walked to school instead of subwaying it. It was rather nice - sunny and busy, warm enough that I took off my coat and felt too hot with my backpack on. I kept looking down side streets and thinking that they ALMOST looked like a real city instead of this hypercity. And even in this good mood, even on this pleasant walk, I kept thinking detachedly, "I really hate this city." Which I suspect is how you know that you really hate a city, if even at its best and your best, you still hate it. This is not to say that I will not end up (or already am) all smug and self-satisfied about how I know New York and will never have to be one of those tourists inspecting a map confusedly on a corner. I probably will be thus smug and self-satisfied. But at least I will be out of here.
I wonder if I've made this better or worse by leaving in the summers. After all, New York can hardly compete with the soaring feeling of walking down a beach in Liberia or stopping to watch the sun set from the dirt road to our house in Tanzania. I am very wary of idealizing other places by comparison to New York, but I know, I know that when I looked out at the lake as I walked up the road above my house in Kibuye, Rwanda and when I sat on my back porch watching the fury of the rain and the waves in Monrovia, Liberia and when I stood on a balcony overlooking the lights of Kampala, Uganda, and when I lost myself on little paths through Buchanan, Liberia until I ended up at a home for the blind and had to formally shake the hand of a blind teenage boy who was squirming with excitement at my showing up in his backyard (sighted people alerted him to my skin color before I even got there), I KNOW that I told myself, "Don't forget this. This moment is as good as it will be in memory. In fact, this moment is better than you will ever be able to remember." So I know that I'm not just making this up. I really do hate New York and love other places.
I read an article yesterday about how some cities (*ahem* new york) are losing 20-30ish people and others (*ahem* portland, or) are gaining them. I suspect that all those people have the right idea.
Blissful extra hours of free time ensued. I love water aerobics, but it's not too upsetting to be told that you don't need to get into a cold pool as your first activity of the day. And since the gym is near school, I end up taking a shower there and drying my hair under a hand-dryer and all that. Not sorry to miss that. But I still wanted exercise, so I did some of the core-strengthening exercises in the living room while watching an infomercial for acne products (only because I couldn't quickly/easily find the vcr remote to change the channel - I've never actually heard Jessica Simpson talk before this infomercial, but as it turns out, she sounds more ditzy than I expected). Then I walked to school instead of subwaying it. It was rather nice - sunny and busy, warm enough that I took off my coat and felt too hot with my backpack on. I kept looking down side streets and thinking that they ALMOST looked like a real city instead of this hypercity. And even in this good mood, even on this pleasant walk, I kept thinking detachedly, "I really hate this city." Which I suspect is how you know that you really hate a city, if even at its best and your best, you still hate it. This is not to say that I will not end up (or already am) all smug and self-satisfied about how I know New York and will never have to be one of those tourists inspecting a map confusedly on a corner. I probably will be thus smug and self-satisfied. But at least I will be out of here.
I wonder if I've made this better or worse by leaving in the summers. After all, New York can hardly compete with the soaring feeling of walking down a beach in Liberia or stopping to watch the sun set from the dirt road to our house in Tanzania. I am very wary of idealizing other places by comparison to New York, but I know, I know that when I looked out at the lake as I walked up the road above my house in Kibuye, Rwanda and when I sat on my back porch watching the fury of the rain and the waves in Monrovia, Liberia and when I stood on a balcony overlooking the lights of Kampala, Uganda, and when I lost myself on little paths through Buchanan, Liberia until I ended up at a home for the blind and had to formally shake the hand of a blind teenage boy who was squirming with excitement at my showing up in his backyard (sighted people alerted him to my skin color before I even got there), I KNOW that I told myself, "Don't forget this. This moment is as good as it will be in memory. In fact, this moment is better than you will ever be able to remember." So I know that I'm not just making this up. I really do hate New York and love other places.
I read an article yesterday about how some cities (*ahem* new york) are losing 20-30ish people and others (*ahem* portland, or) are gaining them. I suspect that all those people have the right idea.
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