Wow. We have been overwhelmed with the response to our post, “50 Reasons to Be Pretty Damn Euphoric You Live in New York City.” See, the thing is, we wrote it because, for better or worse, we love living in New York City. Like any relationship, there are ups and downs. We could tell you about the downs, sure, but on Wednesday, after much of the nation was hijacked by Tea Partiers, it seemed that an up was in order.
So we gave you 50 — not a thousand, not even a hundred — of the reasons we, personally, like living here. This list was in no way meant to be comprehensive, because that would be impossible. Nor was it meant to be exclusionary. Just ’cause we didn’t include something, that doesn’t mean we think it sucks. Necessarily.
To those who note a hefty dose of tongue-in-cheek in our little list, well, you would be right (you must have read us before!). The fact is, sometimes, we just write things that make us laugh, and hope you will laugh, too. Like Reason #25:
Except in select ‘hoods like Park Slope and perhaps the Upper West Side, children are viewed as mysterious beings, rarely sighted and only occasionally understood, like pixies or magical small butlers. Until they scream, in which case, they are banished from the palace.
But New York City is complicated. Like anything with highs, there are also lows. And that is never more true than here. Which is why, rest of America, we need lists like these. On days when we’re stuck in the rain trying to get a cab without an umbrella carrying all of our laundry having worked 20 hours straight, slept for four, broken up with our significant others, and are now heading back to the office, we need to remember why we do this to ourselves. (Sometimes, we are self-absorbed because we have to be. Also, all the rest of y’all want to do is talk about us!)
We need to remember that we chose to be here — because not all, but many, of us did. New York can be as brutal as it is thrilling and wonderful. And for us, these 50 reasons helped remind us of why we stay, and why our love for this place is So. Damn. Good. Good like crack good.
They may not be your reasons. That’s cool. Some of you had some great things to add to our list. Like…
Alex S says:
We get to see enough attractive people on the street to know that Sarah Palin really isn’t that hot after all.
Prince Of Wales says:
You haven’t lived until you’ve seen someone running down 7th Ave with their clothes on fire and wailing like a banshee, or witnessed a homeless person pleasuring himself on the steps of the 42nd St library in broad daylight…
#51- Terets Episode Like Shit Conniptions by New Yorkers who read this article and don’t like it.
If you don’t get the joke, you probably don’t live here, or you’re so vastly unhappy that we’d suggest you maybe leave, or at least, stop reading posts about New York City.
See, the list is called “50 Reasons to Be Pretty Damn Euphoric You Live in New York City,” which in no way precludes you from writing your own list, “50 Reasons to Be Pretty Damn Euphoric You Live in Sheboygan” (we hear it’s beautiful there this time of year!), or “50 Reasons You’re Pretty Damn Euphoric About Whatever the Fuck You Feel Euphoric About.” Or “50 Reasons You Are Not Euphoric at All.” You can put that on your own blog, if you like. Or post it in the comments. Some of you already have.
As for you people who live in New York and read the Voice but hate us because we’re “too young,” “superficial,” “hipster transplants,” “trust-funders,” “rich,” and “celebrating an irresponsible culture of drinking blah, blah, blah, all we hear is Charlie Brown’s teacher,” we can only say about the first five, you have clearly never met us, and about the last, you have clearly never read us. Celebrating an irresponsible culture of drinking is kind of our middle name!
Anyway, New York is, and always has been, about the transplants. And the young people. Who we hope will never cease to come here in droves and annoy us with their optimism, wide-eyed naivete, and irrepressible urge to puke in the streets. Hating them keeps us young, too! Circle of life, baby.
Which is also what New York is about: that perpetual cycle of change and adaptation and more change, which is both complicated and simple, devastating and beautiful, and seems to happen here faster than anywhere else. We cling to the past but we know it’s going to change, because it did before, and it will forever. Which at the end of the day just makes us love this goddamn city that much more. Even though sometimes it makes us cranky. Love does that.
Like we (and some other person, one time) once said, If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere — but not because of something as banal as “job opportunities.” It’s out of the sheer force of fucking will that brought you here when you could have had it easier somewhere else, where you would have driven a four-door sedan and shopped in suburban grocery stores with wide aisles and pristine parking lots and have had 2.5 children by the age of 28 and worked a 9-to-5 job in something [yawn] somewhere.
If you’re making it here, you can make it anywhere because you have the courage to do what you do every damn day, punctuated with the fleeting moments of beauty and pain that make it all worthwhile.
Yeah, we’re intense. Also, anywhere else you’d probably want to shoot yourself.
JDoll [@thisisjendoll] who, by the way, is not a twentysomething hipster, nor has she recently moved here from Ohio. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Also, her particular Duane Reade checkout lane is pretty damn efficient.