The City Where I live
Thanks for making my birthday so special. Must thank Doug once again for the incredible birthday post. Will answer comments tomorrow. Am going back to bed, so that I can continue my birthday month tonight. This study was aptly released yesterday. Can’t believe that I wasn’t interviewed. Probably would have never answered the phone. Too busy blogging.
The city where I live used to be empty in the summer. Steam could be pouring off the concrete, steam would be rising to the sky, steam would be all around me. Each spot where a dog, cat, human peed would have its own odor. The stink of one fishhead could be smelled three blocks down. But in the summer I felt free.
The city where I live has never invited solitude. It’s never embraced the weak or given solace to the unambitious. That was always understood. You could feel lonely in the city, if you moved from someplace and knew nobody, I am told. Wouldn’t know. It’s been my city always.
There’s a different kind of loneliness. One that has nothing to do with not knowing people, and everything to do with hunger for something else. On the way to the restaurant I felt assaulted by people. Broadway was packed. The cab driver got into a fight with another one.
“Hey Buddy,” I wanted to say, “that’s my dime you’re spending.”
But neither of us speak that kind of New York. He’s Black from a distant land, and I am whoever. I was late, and whenever late make the dreadful mistake of getting into a cab instead of walking. From one day to the next I forget how fast I can be on foot.
Though it was only my second time in the restaurant, I felt at home there. But I feel more at home in restaurants from pricey to diners to Cuban/Chinese than I do in most homes. There hasn’t been a time in my adult life I haven’t eaten in or from restaurants.
The restaurant wasn’t participating in restaurant week. Too trendy yet solid. Each table was filled, people waited at the bar and yet they let us linger for hours. And we weren’t even young and adorable anymore. It’s not something that I think about all the time. For so long I took my I’m insecure but worthy status for granted. Maybe I still do. Maybe it’s not getting older that makes people invisible but attitude.
When we walked outside I felt invaded by buildings. So many that hadn’t been here ten or even one year ago. It was almost not familiar, almost like a movie set that portrays a perfected never really been real city. It was my city, the city where I live. It’s real. It used to be so invigorating.
On the walk home I stopped in B&N and was struck by all the chick books I woke up in a good mood, and really have to become miserable again. And the books about becoming a bitch. I like the word “bitch.” It’s a great word when used correctly Dont enjoy being a bitch. Why would people want to learn that skill?
Yes, it’s a joke. No, there’s nothing funny about wanting to be a bitch or wanting to be miserable. Nothing funny about it at all. I could give lessons. Truthfully that’s the part of me that I wanted to shed.
Once irony was proclaimed dead in the city where I live. That lasted about half hour. Once there was meat behind the irony. Now it’s sardonic without real wit. Empty shells who shout buzz.
The city where I live is so many cities in one that it takes my breath away. Once I found the neighborhoods within the neighborhoods endlessly fascinating. Once I was enchanted by life in the city where I live and have loved and have fought and found my way through decades of contentment, strife, misery, and joy, often all at once.
The city where I live is dense with different groups from different worlds, and I will always love the vigor that it brings. Though somehow we all seem homogenized. Maybe I have lived in this city too long.
The city where I live is vertical, and I feel it closing in on me. If I were to stay I would fear for my sanity and longevity. There are amazing parks, and wonderful rivers, but I need to be near the ocean, where I can’t see Jersey, Queens, or Brooklyn.
Just endless waves going past the horizon, that’s what I dream of living near. I feel spoiled for I live a block and a park from the Hudson, but my wide angle lenses pictures make it seem bigger than it is. Maybe I need to be at the river constantly. Maybe I’m a bitch who can’t appreciate the city where I live. Or maybe I need to live in it just less. But that requires money and the city where I live is the most expensive in America.
The city where I live is much prettier than it has ever been. There are times that I feel so guilty for wanting to leave. If I just try to take advantage of all that is here, if I make myself walk every street as I used to with so much joy. But the streets are too crowded, and it feels like a great place to visit.
Sorry that I missed your bday yesterday, hope it was a good/fun one! Today my twin daughters turn 16 years old. I think that we’ll be making a trip to the DMV later on …
Happy belated B-day Pia dear.
Here’s to many more… Well, I mean in a selfish sense that gives you more time to get involved in sotries and us more time to hear them told.
“Each spot where a dog, cat, human peed would have its own odor. The stink of one fishhead could be smelled three blocks down.”
Very evocative. Reminds me why I’m outta town in July and August.
Pia: The NYC Tourist Bureau wants their award back.
Hope your birthday was a great one my dear Pia!
I know what you mean about a city closing in on you. I lived in Madrid for 6 months once. I was supposed to stay longer but up and bailed because one day I woke up and could not breathe… the fact that there was no sea to be seen was killing me and I just left… best thing I ever did! Although New York without Pia… not quite right, you know?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! I’m so sorry I missed it yesterday. I didn’t know.
New York City would never be the same without you. You tell tales that are rich and vibrant. Who else could write about it like you do?
Hope you had a fabulous birthday!
Happy Birthday Pia, sorry I missed it–I was gone for 10 days–spent the last five in the wilderness far from internet (and even phone service) canoeing and trout fishing.
Love reading about your city and don’t know why you want to leave it as you seem to be so much at home there. You should give tours!
New York is like that. Funny..I was thinking today about how many different ways I’ve felt about it. When I go in to the city now, I never know if I’m going to come home genuinely depressed because I’ll never be able to live there again or relieved because, while it’s a great place to visit, it’s also exhausting and intense and it seems easier here.
Pia, this is one of your best. Whether you leave or stay, please walk the streets and write more of these.
“It’s been my city always.”
I guess that’s why it’s so hard to leave.
damn – we’re supposed to have a birthday month?
I like that idea.
Happiest of Birthday Months to you!
Was down in NYC this past weekend and although it was so hot, it was still good to be back and the visit was too short.
Funny how our transitions and moves are happening at the same time albeit in diff directions.
“Maybe it’s not getting older that makes people invisible but attitude.” love that line, and think there’s a lot of truth in it.
sometimes my older son goes into nyc (we live in CT) in order to hide from the rest of the world. it’s the only city i know where you can be as visible/invisible as you want. that said, i completely understand the need to be near the ocean. with water comes peace. and, in my case, orientation (how weird is that? i know where i am by where the water is…)
beautiful post, Pia… hope the rest of your Birthday Month is as FABULOUS as you are! xox
Wherever you go there you are and I mean that in a positive way. If you move to the ocean’s edge, I am sure you’ll describe it in your own voice that will draw people in anew. Although I haven’t read you for such a long time, New York looks rather good on you. Happy Birthday Month!
happy b-day pia.
stop by if you get a chance.
(formerly auf!auf! Robotnik)
Great post, Pia. And you deserved celebrating.