Collin and I had a lovely weekend in New Jersey and New York, where Collin ran the ING Marathon and had his personal best time of 3:20. I got to see lots of friends, and had a lot of fun, and it was wonderful.
But I’m so, so, so glad to be home.
Look, I know this will forever bar me from the Cool Kids Club, but I just don’t like New York City. I find it deeply exhausting and more than a little depressing. It’s exacerbated by the ten-year-old in me feeling left out because by all other accounts New York is “the greatest city in the world,” but when I’m there I just want to go home where I can walk at my own pace and assume strangers are nice and rarely if ever wonder if people sprawled on the sidewalk are dead or alive. What do the Cool Kids see that I don’t? And am I really such a whiny brat to think that if you’re going to have a massive public transportation network you should make maps of it readily available?
So I said to Collin a few times this weekend (maybe more than a few times), “Don’t make me move to New York. Remember we can always live in New Jersey if you have to take a job in New York. Isn’t this PATH train great? Let’s never, ever move to New York, OK?” He told me not to worry about moving to New York, as it’s not a big area for the kind of research he wants to do.
But you know where is? South Africa. And you know that whole “if I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere” bit? Well, I do not think that people who can make it in New York can necessarily make it in South Africa. [I suspect they’d also have trouble with rural Montana, or, I don’t know, the Kamchatka Peninsula.] Really, the line should be “if I can make it there, I’ll make it in other First World cities.”
But that is neither here nor there, because I cannot make it in New York. Dudes, I can barely make it in Pittsburgh, and it is the most livable city in America.
I’ve told Collin I’ll go where he needs to go when he finishes his PhD program, because his career is looking to be awesome. He’s told me that he doesn’t want to go to South Africa out of deference to me. But how many “don’t make us move there” cards can I really play? Maybe I just need to toughen up. But I hope I can do it in some kind of trainer hell-metro. Cleveland, maybe?