Let’s talk about New York.
My sister is living there right now, going to school for musical theater. She’ll be back in LA next year, and then probably back to New York again.
My parents flew us all out to see her for Thanksgiving, since my mom was the only one of us who had ever been to the city.
I love big cities. I love them so much I’d live in one in a heartbeat. My first choices would be Paris and NYC, though San Francisco would also be acceptable. (No thank you to LA or Los Vegas. And SLC does not count.) Given that I’ll probably never actually move to a big city (them being so expensive, us being able to work from anywhere, and our community here being so great it’s impossible to leave) I really love to visit.
New York City is my kind of city. Places have a feel to them. I grew up near San Francisco, and I love the feel of that city. Paris feels old, with generations of architecture layered over each other like a post modern text. (Credit for that analogy goes to my parisian travelling companion Emily, but it’s never left me.) LA and Vegas feel more fake, more planned, more recent.
New York feels old and alive. Drew and I did a lot of my favorite kind of touring–just walking around the streets looking at stuff.
And taking pictures, if course. Because that’s what we do. (I’ve given up on not looking like tourists–but I comfort myself that we look like tourists in our own town, too. Maybe we just need better cameras to be taken seriously.)
