big-apple-sculptureI took advantage of JetBlue’s $69 one-way flights from Long Beach to New York City – what I call a smart splurge – and am having a ball visiting my sister in the Big Apple. Living in Los Angeles has softened me up, while she has become the consummate New Yorker.

She stays out all hours of the night, can calculate taxi fare between any two points, and has maximized the potential of her tiny apartment by stashing her microwave and toaster under the sink. They still work!

I am no longer a New Yorker, but being in the city I lived in for ten years has reminded me of all the things I miss:

  • Fearless subway musicians who provide free entertainment while you wait, including a tap dancer at 42nd Street who set up a mini-stage and then danced to the beat of three drummers across the platform
  • People so interesting looking that I can make up whole stories about their lives, like the philosopher with orange-brown hair who would eventually break the heart of the woman cuddling him on the subway even though he did not know it
  • The rumbling of the trains passing below, a comforting reminder that you can go anywhere, do anything, at anytime

But I stayed long enough to remember why I left:

  • Where did all these people come from? Get out of my way!
  • Waiting so long for the NR that its nickname, the Never Rarely, comes true
  • Smells that are not appropriate to write about, even on a blog

When I get back to Los Angeles I’m going to grab my yoga mat and let go all of New York – the good and the bad – with a few down dogs. I’m ready to be a softie again.

5 Responses to “Loving the big apple…and remembering why I left”

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