There are about a million versions of New York City - the broke New York, the rich New York, the Brooklyn New York, the hipster New York, the yuppie New York, the immigrant New York (and all the permutations implied therein), etc., etc., etc. Perhaps that's the City's appeal - just when you think you've got it figured out, you get invited to a new place, visit a new restaurant, see a new apartment, and yet another city unfolds before you.
I've been thinking a lot about the City this weekend, about what it means to live here and what form of it I want to spend my time in, because one of our closest friends left to move back to DC this weekend. Mona moved to New York at the same time Michael did, and as transient as this place is, she was one of the folks we considered a lifer - or at least someone who would stay as long as Michael and I were here. And yet, now she's gone, Michael and I are still living the City life, and while we talk about leaving, it remains in a very abstract way.
So this weekend, I realized how much I love a version of the City I spend very little time in -- the early weekend morning New York. Michael and I have been attending a gym class on Sunday mornings over by Union Square. It requires us to wake up and head out of our apartments by 9:50 AM - very early by City standards, where Sunday brunch lasts until 4. It's really such a magical time. The sidewalks are empty, the street traffic as light as it ever is. Families are out, but not in so many numbers as to dominate. The drunks are all quiet and at home. It's a peaceful time when you really believe the only people out are true New Yorkers.
It's a very pleasant City - and is a version that keeps me satisfied with life here.
Have a Cozy Weekend.
1 day ago
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