Places I Remember

I really like this shirt, it makes me feel sexy.

It also does great things for my boobs. XD

Today I’m going to talk a little bit about cities.

Believe it or not, I didn’t grow up thinking, “someday, I’m going to move to the least tolerant city that is also prone to heavy snowfall and landslides in Ohio.” Honestly, if I’d had any idea how bad this place would be, I would have gone to New York instead and lived in a ridiculously priced studio rat trap apartment. At least then if I’d gotten bed bugs, I would still be in New York. 9.9

Not to say that Cincy is all bad. I’ve made a few good friends since I moved here, and I really like my voice teacher and being near my family. But those are things I could have in multiple places. The point is, this place is not home to me. I will miss certain people when I leave, but I won’t bid this city a fond farewell. I will feel loss in my friends, but not for any places around here.

To be honest, home generally isn’t a place for me. When I was growing up. we moved around so often that no place felt like home. The only house I remember or miss very much is the one we lived in the two years before my parents divorced, and mostly it was because I had two rooms. My room had the only access to the tiny third floor room (which was finished) and the attic (unfinished). My parents indulged me by putting some old furniture and a TV up there, and I spent many a night up there with my best friends, even in the summer when it was hot as hell from a combination of physics and poor insulation. My memories of that house are numerous, and almost entirely fond. So home isn’t so much a place, to me, as a feeling of comfort and belonging. And the place I feel that most, aside from hanging out with certain people, is New York City.

I’ve always liked cities in general, but cities are a lot like people. Each one is different, has a different flavor and feeling. I didn’t like the cities in North Carolina (where I spent high school through college) very muc. Charlotte stuck in my throat, like dust, and Raleigh felt so old and tired. Cincinnati is sort of like a slice of pizza that’s been sitting out too long. It may still look fine, but once you bite into it, you can tell something is wrong.

New York, on the other hand, is like a wonderful combination of a banquet and a symphony. The sounds, the sights, the delicious flavors, all make my very bones vibrate with excitement. I don’t have to think hard to imagine who people would write songs like “New York, New York”, especially when just walking down the street there makes me want to burst into song. It doesn’t matter what time of year, the blazing heat of summer with the stench of rotting garbage mixing in with the hot pretzels, or the middle of winter with sidewalks slick and corners dark, I love that city.

The first time I remember going to New York (I was born in New York state and apparently visited the city more than once before we moved away, but I was between 0 and 3 then, so I don’t remember) was with both my parents. I forget what the trip was about, except it was something official, something to do with my father, as they paid for a very nice room at the Plaza hotel, and we spent most of our time sight-seeing. My parents were nice enough to take me because they knew I would love to see a Broadway show while we were there, and in fact I believe we saw more than one, which was exciting. ❤ Because I was there with my two parents, I got to see two very different cities on that trip.

My mother has always been interested in the very best parts of a city. The nicest restaurants (that a kid could stand), the coolest shops (oh, the memories of F.A.O. Schwartz), the epic green of Central Park (which, admittedly, is only so green because it’s surrounded by city). We took taxis everywhere, which made me feel so posh, and walked a bunch, which ended up hurting my feet. XD But it was tons of fun, even when we went to see Beauty and the Beast and the rotating tower mechanism broke down and we had to wait half an hour to see the most dramatic part of the show (which spoiled the drama a bit, not that you can blame the actors).

My dad, on the other hand, knows what the best part looks like. Not that my mom grew up poor (upper middle class, really), but my dad grew up in a wealthy family. Private schools, trips to England on summer vacations, that kind of thing. And he is much more interested in the gritty underside of things, what he calls the “true face”. When I was with him, we traveled exclusively on the subways, watched performers and clapped and smiled for them, and even saw some sort of scary things (not dangerous, but a bit unnerving). I learned some things about street smarts from those experiences, so they were definitely interesting.

Last time I went to New York, I went by myself. It was exhilarating. It was the first time I’d ever been there on my own, and I loved it. For part of the trip I stayed with my Aunt L, who lives about an hour away by train, the rest I stayed in a hotel in the city. It was expensive, but oh so worth it. I bought a ridiculous amount of yarn (some of those yarn stores, OMG, soooo amazing) and walked around everywhere and smiled like an idiot. I also sang a lot, as I was visiting specifically to meet with potential voice teachers (before I decided to move to Cincinnati, I also visited here to meet potential teachers). It was wonderful.

Cincinnati isn’t an awful place to live. Sure, it doesn’t really have any jobs, at least not more than anywhere else. And it doesn’t have a great selection of places to hang out, or shop, or visit. But it’s no worse than Charlotte or Raleigh. I guess it’ll just always pale in comparison to New York. To be fair, almost every city in the world (even Munich and Cologne, which I loved) pales in comparison, at least in my eyes. But I know I’ll get there at some point. The only question is when.

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