When I was in middle school, I took my first trip to New York City. It was a school trip, and I was so excited to go. NYC represented the land of grown-up, successful, fancy people living in a metropolis of awesome. In high school, our senior trip was to NYC and again I felt the wonder and awe of Broadway shows, public transportation, and shopping. I always wanted to get the hell out of Kentucky, and idealized NYC like a crazy person. When I ended up having to go to college in Kentucky, I was devastated. (Don’t hate me now Kentucky friends – I am so, so glad things worked out how they did!) My senior year of college, I went to an advertising conference in NYC and once again felt the lure of the high rise buildings and power suits. It was then, however, that I realized that I couldn’t fit in there, because I couldn’t really walk around. I even remember having major fear about fitting in a cab while wearing a too-tight suit with awful pantyhose. I saw this photo recently and I believe it is the only one I have of me from that trip. A friend grabbed my camera and took a photo:
Later this week, I’ll be back in NYC for a conference and while I’m no longer dreaming of bright lights and late nights in the city, I am wondering if I’ll feel like as much as an outsider as I did last time I was there. Of course, I know people of all shapes and sizes live everywhere. When I was younger, I loved the thought of NYC because of cultural diversity, but now as a more cynical grown up, I worry about a jackass saying something about me in passing. My skin isn’t nearly as thick as I pretend it is.
Anyway, I’ll report back from my New York adventures next week.
Completely unrelated to New York:
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