I’m going on my 3rd year in New York right now, but somehow it never seems like I live here. It’s always felt extremely temporary somehow. The thought occurred to me tonight as I was riding the subway into ‘the city’ and feeling the humidity, even though I was many feet below the ground in an enclosed metal tube. I was mentally chastising myself for being surprised at how humid is was with, “What do you expect? We live in a place surrounded by the ocean.” As soon as I had that thought it felt fake to me.
After 2 years in New York, I still don’t feel as though I have ever lived here. Why is that? Is it because I know in my heart I am biding my time? Probably. Moving to NYC is something I did out of coercion—maybe persuasion is a better word. At any rate, I accepted it because I was looking to make a change in my life anyway. Chicago was the city I’d set my sights on, but America’s first city offered me a job, I already had family here, plus my sister was requiring me to go where she did, and Val!’s plans certainly included New York. There was no great reason not to move to New York.
I wonder if the feeling of living a transient existence and just waiting, waiting in limbo, would be the same regardless. I know Texas is in my eventual future, but I’d still like to feel settled and cozy in the interim—like I belong to a place and it to me. Like I have a positive, loving relationship with my current city, as cheesy as that may sound. New York, why are you so elusive? Is it entirely my fault?
I see it from the periphery. I see how cool New York is, how interesting it can be, and what it offers that no place else really does—something for everyone. It’s easy to rebuke NYC for being so hard-nosed, so unfriendly, so not midwestern/southern. I just want, for the rest of the time Justin and I are here, to love it like other people openly love it. I just don’t know if I have it in me.
Side note: On the way to see FIT’s Gothic fashion exhibit today, a black man was handing out a newspaper. The cover said “Racism! Hatred!” He tried to hand it to an Indian man walking right in front of me that did not take it. As I approached, he quickly pulled the magazine away from my sight and back toward himself. Strange, but that happens more than you’d think here. There are religious propaganda spreaders that hang out near Queens Mall preaching that God is black. They approach anyone that looks like a minority, but when I (or another white person) walks by, they back away or turn to someone else. In a way, it’s a bummer. What if it was something I wanted to know about? It’s not like I’ve got religion in my life. ;) Oh well, no biggie.
FIT’s exhibit was amazing and highly, highly recommended. If you like black, lace, Gothic style, or are just curious, you absolutely must check it out! I might write more on this at another time, as I am planning to drag Val! back with me… in full regalia. :)
