New York vs LA

One good thing about New York is it sure does have passion. People are REALLY really proud to be from here. They wear the I love NY t-shirts, hats, sports jerseys, they have accents that no matter where they travel, people will always know they are from new York. This is a proud city that has lived through the worst and come out better than ever. I’m not denying that.

But there are little things that perhaps a native New Yorker lets slide for the sheer joy living here. But I am not native, I never will be. I am fresh off the boat. I don’t want to seem like Dr. Phil here, the man states the obvious and expects to change peoples lives, I just want to share my observations and hope I am not alone on this island.

Apartments: The only good thing about apartment dwelling in New York is that you can’t hear your neighbors. In LA, you can hear your neighbors slicing ham. One footfall feels like a jackhammer. Of course the trade off is no yard, no fresh air unless you stick your nose through a 2 inch slit, uncomfortable elevator rides with strangers, and the occasional man cleaning your window on a pulley, surprising you while you watch Gilmore Girls in your undies.

Fashion: What’s with wearing a belt under your boobs?

Food: The food in New York is really good. It makes up for the grocery stores being to bad. Thank god for Trader Joes and Whole Foods. But I don’t dare go to either unless I eat a full meal, stretch and have an hour to kill in line. I am positive no one has ever uttered the phrase: “I’m just running to Trader’s Joe’s, I’ll be back in a minute.” So thank god for the forty thousand restaurants. And everybody brunches here. What’s with that? By the time they call your name to be seated it’s usually dinner.

Pregnant or engaged: There is something in the water here that makes every other chick on the street knocked up or engaged. If I’m not blinded by gigantic bellies I am blinded by the sparkle of gigantic rings. Total culture shock from LA, where no one is pregnant and no one is getting married. People are too self serving and selfish for that. And they aren’t ashamed of it. They moved to LA for one thing only, fame, and they aren’t leaving until they get that guest spot on JAG. Then they can go home to Kansas and milk that fame, and eventually their cow and/or boobs.

New Yorkers actually live lives here. They carry on their seed. They have families and dogs and mortgages. I didn’t think that existed, after living in LA for so long. LA is a retire community for 20somethings. No one takes their lives, their work, their BA in English, seriously. They work hard to look busy and they can get away with it. Rent can be cheap if you live in the valley, you can have 15 jobs and still be respected as an artist. Traffic can be blamed for every time you’re late.

In New York, it is so insanely pricey to live here that unless you want to share your 300 square foot studio with 10 people, you have got to have a job that pays a decent wage, and you have be a grown up about things. Like having health insurance for when you get plowed down by a taxi.

Prices: Three Buck Chuck. Need I say more?

Shopping: You can find a deal in this city, I’ll give it that much. Century 21, Loehmans, sample sales- all fine and dandy until you get to the check out counter and have to come face to face with the people working at these places. I almost saw one crack a smile at Filenes Basement. She probably got fired for it.

Traffic: I took the most beautiful picture the other day. It was right outside my apartment building. It was a sign that read: DON’T HONK. FINE $350. What’s more, I love that drivers heed this warning with such caution. The city is so quiet because of it.

Okay, I’m being sarcastic. But come on, if you know a 90 year old lady crossing the street is the reason you aren’t moving, why must you honk at her? Everyone honks here. No one has any regard for foot traffic, which makes up a billion times more traffic than cars. Why are people in such a goddamned hurry. You have TIVO.

Walking: I’m a healthy girl. I work out, I eat right. But after two days of walking in this city my feet were torn to a bloody pulpy mess. After a week, my hip felt like it had come out of its socket. I sweat in places I never existed. It is weird having only your legs to get you from place to place. But I like walking. In fact, I love it. But city walking is different. Everyone walks with such determination and speed. Even at Farmer’s Market’s or through a park on Sunday. I feel that everyone will stare at me with mocking eyes muttering TOURIST under their breath if I stop to window shop or take in a view of the Empire State building at night.

Weather: In LA, even if the day starts out a bit nippy, by lunchtime it’s warm and breezy, even in February. Maybe a light scarf for evening attire, but never a big jacket. I don’t own an umbrella, I have fourteen pairs of flip-flops. I haven’t owned a coat in ten years. I am not prepared for winter. But I was even less prepared for New York in August.

I moved to NY in August and I couldn’t take two steps out the door without slipping in my own thigh sweat. It was gross and muggy and humid and I instantly regretted this move. September was a little better. After stepping in my fair share of murky puddles while crossing the street I bought some closed toed shoes and even a jacket. But here’s the rub. Even if it’s a fair, breezy 70 degrees outside, the minute you start walking toward your destination, you start sweating and then it quickly becomes 75 degrees, then 80 and so on. But if its 60 degrees, you need a jacket and the same thing happens, only now its because of my new, hip, layered look. Just layer everything, people told me. Fine. I can do that. But then you walk into a subway and get blasted with 100 degrees of putrid underground air, where am I supposed to put my nine layers of clothes? I have no car. No locker. Oh. I see, carry a big purse. Does this purse come with a chiropractic plan? God the sizes of purses in this town.

In LA… even with the traffic, cars are great. You can have a second apartment in your car. On any given day I had a cell phone charger, a bottle of water, a computer, snacks, Cds, clothes, shoes, towels, a blanket, a chair and rollerblades. Sometimes a bike if I was feeling frisky. I loved that. I loved that if I got cold, or hot, I could run out to my car and change. Walking down the street, if I get cold or hot I remain just that. Cold or hot. No one has ever gotten thigh rash walking in LA. I’m just sayin’.

I wish I didn’t have such a beef with New York. People love it here. Everyone I have ever known who has lived here tells me it is the “only city”, that I have to live there once in my life. Well, I’m here now and I am waiting to be swept off my feet. I am happy and in love and very lucky for all that I have and I will say this, some days I really like this town.

Maybe this will speak to those of you who feel the same way. Or better, maybe this will dissuade some farm boy from Iowa or some cheerleader from Indiana from moving here and clogging up the city with their wide eyed wonder. Fuck wide eyed wonder. Get out of my way when I’m walking down a sidewalk. Hmm. Maybe I am a New Yorker after all.