Back in New York now; a lengthy layover between the wedding madness in Guatemala and my graduation from Trinity in Dublin. A layover because both far-flung events took space in a short time frame and the trip to Guatemala is, in essence, my trip to the West for the year so why not make the most of it? It’s New York in the early throes of spring time; pink blossoms sprouting up all over the city in intermittent bursts. Gorgeous day outside, the old familiar smells and sounds. But I find myself pensive between lunch and dinner dates; crankier than perhaps I could be. And that’s because, for as much as I love this city, the longer I stay away, the more I come to hate being back home sometimes. And I love this city. And I love my friends. But sometimes… well….

Why I (sort of) hate being back home in New York:

  • Tipping. Oh Jesus Christ, is tipping ever a pain in the neck. Attention, slum lord restaurant managers of the U.S.: it is not my job to pay your staff.
  • The MTA. The delays. The shoving. The cartoon cloud of germs hovering in the air. I once tried to calculate how many minutes of my life I’d wasted waiting for the goddamn train but that required fancy math so I stopped.
  • Running into people I know. Ugh, god.
  • The horns, the smog, the shoving. Bleh.
  • Familiarity. Feels like I never left; like the past four years never happened. Creeps me out.
  • Pressure to come back. For the most part, my close friends have stopped asking When are you coming back for good? but the question still pops up. Perhaps I’m too sensitive, but I can’t help but take the question – when asked by people who don’t actually want me around – as a bit of an affront. Oh, I’m sorry. Is my choice to live in a foreign country not “real” enough for you? I suppose working 9-6 in an office and spending half of my earnings for rent is the only way to live; I suppose by living in a different country I’m just cocking around. The truth is, the more time that passes, the less I feel pulled home, the less I feel the need to live that way again. And you know what? I don’t see what’s so fucking wrong with that.

Okay. Enough grousing. Why I love love love being back home in New York:

  • Nice place to visit. I once thought that people who said New York City is a nice place to visit but I could never live there were weak, Darwinian anomalies in the herd who cried out to be eliminated. But the truth is, living here is rough; something I didn’t appreciate until I moved away. And visiting here – without work stress or commute stress or daily living stress or rent stress or even much financial stress, as my friends often take me out – is like a New York wet dream come true. You know. New York like it is in the movies. And I like it. I like it a lot.
  • Familiar places and faces. Miss you, boos.
  • Have a nice day! Because that’s what you say when ending an interaction. It’s manners. It’s polite. It’s nice.
  • Yiddish. God, I miss Yiddish. Hearing it gets me all verklempt.
  • Running into people I know. Hooray!
  • Eating my face off. But you suspected this already. Went to a restaurant called Salt & Fat the other night; thought I’d plotz. Belated birthday dinner at Sushi Seki last night; so delicious and authentic I almost cried into my ocha.
  • The horns, the smog, the shoving. Mama’s home, fuckers.
  • Marie’s Crisis. How I miss my gays.
  • Gray’s Papaya. Italy? Now this is a hot dog.
  • C.O. Bigelow. Shhhhh; it’s like heaven.
  • Knowing where I am and what to do at all times. I mean all times. Because being home is like falling back in step with a line dance. You know where to pull. You know where to dip. Even if you don’t know your partner. Even if you don’t like to dance.

7 Replies to “Love/Hate”

  1. I feel exactly the same way about being out of New York. I’m still trying to shake off that “get it done yesterday” mentality that has managed to follow me down to sleepy NC. Oh well, I”m sure I”ll shake it soon enough! But boy do I Loooooove visiting!

  2. Hey wait I wrote this exact post in my mind just about 6 months from now.

    1. ieatmypigeon says: Reply

      Really? It’s been festering in my mind for about four years….

  3. What’s really cool is I heard you say some of these things earlier this week. In person. Right in front of me. Over drinks. Yay.

    A pleasure to meet you. Have fun in Dublin and happy graduation.

    1. ieatmypigeon says: Reply

      History in the making, Cheri. It was such a pleasure to meet you this week! You made my first time very memorable 😀

  4. Ahhh those last two lines killed me for some reason. In the best way possible, but it made me very homesick and very aware of how awkwardly I move through the day around here.

  5. Totally with you on this one. I have the same love-hate relationship with London. (Though I must admit I don’t know where I am and what to do at all times; I feel more disoriented in London than in Cairo sometimes.) What I realized when I was back recently was that I do very much enjoy visiting the city and catching up with friends and family, but the idea of moving back there, like, *for good* (meaning, longer than 6 months), creeps me out big time. Perhaps I can be one of those people who I’ve always been so jealous of: “Nick divides his time between…”!

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