The Hamptons feels so far away from New York City that I sometimes forget I’m still in the same time zone. We ride around in cars there and eat pastries on the empty patios of cafés and stock up for the weekend in grocery stores with aisles big enough to fit carts. The town has ten boutiques, and the people who live there make conversation with you for no reason.
But on the drive home, you quickly realize how close to the city you still are. On the road trips I used to make in college to South Carolina and Chicago, I remember stopping for gas at highway exits that had little else. A truck stop, an adult bookstore, and a McDonald’s perched on a hill with nothing but miles and miles of farmland as far as I could see. I always felt like I was on the prairie, even if I was really in the middle of the Appalachians. On the way back from the Hamptons, if you blink your eye, you’re in Queens. The exits all lead to neighborhoods with constantly-busy streets, strollers full of babies of every ethnicity, skateboarding teenagers, shopping bags on every arm.
There’s no rest. I feel my chest tighten as soon as the row houses come into view and a taxi cuts us off. The fact that I hold my breath all day in NYC is only noticeable after a weekend away with nothing but exhalations. It’s like I’m always bracing myself for the worst.
But then we’re on the Brooklyn Bridge, and the city’s skyline is the most exciting one I’ve ever seen, and I tell my friend Jeff, “If I’m this happy to see New York after only a weekend away, imagine how I’d feel after a year.” It’s scary to imagine yourself as a tourist here, older and settled somewhere else and without any more ties to this city than to London or Tokyo. Part of the thing about living in NYC is feeling like you’re in on a special secret that no one else knows about.
Well, no one but the 18 million other people who live here.
12 Comments
Psh. Only 18 million.
I’ve been to a few of those exits myself… sadly never to NYC, though… what a view (I might have to super-size my No.1 in order to console myself)!
Absolutely stunning shot, U.M… (that vignette is pretty dang chill, too)!
:)
“Part of the thing about living in NYC is feeling like you’re in on a special secret that no one else knows about.”
Yep, pretty much. I’ve been living here since 2005, and there are still moments that I just stop and think to myself “Wow, I actually LIVE IN NEW YORK CITY OMGGGGG.”
YES. It’s a battle between “everything would be easier anywhere else” and “everywhere else is nothing like this”. The day after I wrote this, I was in the gym in my boyfriend’s building and looked up as the sun rose behind the UN building and was exactly like, “Wow, I actually LIVE IN NEW YORK CITY OMGGGGG.”
(That’s when I moved here, too! We’re proof that it doesn’t wear off for a WHILE.)
This reminded me of an old article I read in NY magazine back in 2007 entitled “Because Everyone Loves New York in His Own Particular Way” (http://nymag.com/news/articles/reasonstoloveny/2007/42046/). This was back when I had just moved to my first apartment, and hadn’t yet gotten to the point where I wanted to smack every other person in the subway. I was ALL about loving New York.
Anyway, it’s a collection of quotes from people who live here who were asked why they love NY, and one of them said:
“I love New York. I refer to the city as my abusive boyfriend. It slaps me around a lot, but I know I’ll never leave it.”
After starting my NYC blog, I think I’m falling back in love with my abusive boyfriend.
Gotta rub it in, huh? That kinda Karma withdrawl will find you living in somewhere like Daly City before you can say ‘My Gawd! What did they do the BAGELS?!?” ;-)
Did I tell you today you’re beautiful? No? There, I’ve said it.
This post pulls at my heart. NOT for New York (heaven forbid) but for my home. Philly. Funny to think I’ve been gone almost 3 yrs. Sometimes I long for the filth and ugliness of the city, but then I go outside and breathe deep. I look around and pet my chickens and know there’s no better place in the world for me & my family.
Thanks for the memories.
That’s exactly why I couldn’t live in NYC…. Everytime I go, I’m overwhelmed, and my chest is tight, and breathing is hard. I love the hustle and bustle, but you can never relax. It’s the opposite of London, to me. Maybe it’s the compactness of Manhattan? London lets you breathe and feel and experience. Guess I’ll just have to come visit you and get convinced otherwise. :)
GOOD LORD, that’s a great photo of the Brooklyn Bridge.
Glad you had a good time in the Hamptons. But still JEALOUS.
Even on the best vacations there is nothing like coming home. Glad you had a good time.
This feels like it was written by someone who’s getting ready to move away.
It’s not. But, you know, when you’re constantly torn between being in love with and just being plain worn out by a place, it’s always on your mind.