I’ve been sitting here for atleast 30 minutes trying to think of how I can possibly manage to even begin to recap my trip to New York. Words are really hard, guys. Sometimes I feel like I feel things too much. I realize that sounds totally ridiculous but let me give you some perspective. The above photo is almost identical to the one that I have had as my iPad cover photo for the past two years. I didn’t realize it until I started to go through my photos, but then I realized holy fuck, I went to New York. I’ve been dreaming of this place for so long, I have a poster of the skyline in my room, and the aforementioned iPad cover photo, and now I have seen it with my own eyes. Holy fuck.
I know that people travel all the time. People travel to much more exotic/cultural/exciting/whatever places than New York. I know that it’s no big deal to most people. However, it’s a big deal to me. While I am one of those people who tends to dream pretty big, one of those people who aims high, who sets extraordinary standards, there is a very large part of me who constantly tells me that I will never get to do the things I want to do. I’ve wanted to go to New York for a very, very long time. I really, truly started to believe I would never make it there. A lot of it had to do with coming from my small town. I see it everyday, people who live their entire lives here, never leaving. People don’t travel, they don’t go on adventures, they most certainly don’t have blogs. They graduate from high school (or not), get a job (or not), get married (or not), have kids (always), and live out their lives here. I was convinced that I was stuck here, destined to be like everyone else in this town, never able to see the world. And let me tell you, that scared the shit out of me.
Thus, as we sat in a cab from JFK and headed into the city, as I saw all the giant buildings, the crowds of people, all the landmarks I had seen on TV/movies/ read about, I was overcome with a sense of relief mixed with utter happiness and gratitude. I felt free. Free from that little voice telling me that I will be forever stuck in my hometown, that I didn’t deserve to see the world. See? I feel too much.
New York was everything I dreamed of and more. It is completely different than anything I have ever known. I love how outrageously fast people walk, I love Central Park, I love the feeling that everyone had a sense of purpose, I love the constant activity, the busyness of it. I loved 30 Rock, the endless food options, the sense that you could never be bored there. I loved watching Broadway plays, the theatre nerd inside me died the moment Idina walked out onstage.
Times Square was the worst. I hated the tourists who didn’t walk fast enough. I hated seeing the carriage horses in Central Park. I could do without the piles of garbage on the sidewalks, and the occasional fragrance of vomit that wafted through the city. I hated how the drivers seem to think that honking their horn makes traffic move any faster ( hint: IT DOESN’T ).
New York is flawed, like everything else in this world. It makes me love it more.
I’m just realizing now that this isn’t a recap at all. It’s more of me trying to give you some insight as to why I was so excited to go. Why I’m so over the top ecstatic about it. Why I’m having trouble writing about everything. Just trust me when I say it was amazing, and when I finally un-jumble my thoughts, I’ll let you in on what exactly we did there. Also, photos. I’ve got a shit ton of them.
What’s your favorite place to travel to?