Monday, December 12, 2011

Hot child in the city

Just got back from a quick weekend away in the Big Apple with my little sister.  Had a fantastic time.  Saw the sights, shopped the shops, ate the food, and in between had some great talks and a fun, relaxing time.

However, there is one thing my sissy poo and I could not agree on.

And that is the city itself.

My sister capital L LOVES living in NYC.  LOVES.  Hates coming home to "small town middle America" where my parents live.

I am quite the opposite.  Give me wide open spaces, fresh air, quiet nights, grass, and minimal cement.  I don't look forward to going to the city, I feel claustrophobic and dirty.

Don't get me wrong, NYC is something that I feel everyone should go see and experience.  There is a totally different culture there (dear sissy poo, please note I said "different" and not "better") and you can get a mani-pedi on just about any block for a steal of a deal.  You can eat Pakistani food for lunch, followed by authentic Chinese for dinner, and then Afghan for a late night snack.  You can go running in a great park and on just one street you can chose between H&M, Sephora, the Gap, Old Navy, Banana, Ann Taylor...

And, of course, my sister lives there.  Reason alone to go. is not that often in the country that the drunk kid sitting next to you starts puking all over and gets spatter on your shoes.  Or that a cat-sized rat comes and stares you down for 15 minutes while you wait for your train.

No, I think I will stick with my rural setting, where you need to drive 15 minutes to get anywhere (and by anywhere, I do mean nowhere).  I will keep my clean, green, grassy yards, my personal space when I go for a run.  I will take no sidewalks at all over sidewalks covered in trash and spit out gum and cigarette butts.

Like I said, I had a great time in the city for a few days.  But lord, was it good to come home to the country.

Still breathing in the (cold) fresh air,

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