Most days in NYC I would take the train to and from work; others I would walk.
I lived about a mile and a half from Hearst Tower. Wasn’t bad at all, and despite the bitter cold, walking was my favorite thing to do — it opened my eyes and allowed me to take in every single moment all the more, such as the way Hearst so elegantly and yet boldly peeks out from behind other, plainer buildings as you approach it from 8th Avenue.
Tugging at my heart, that Beauty.
Anyway, walking was a rush. Not just because I was usually in a rush, but probably because of the rush that comes with being a “New Yorker.” All I know is that, even when I was tired and dragging, I was kick-butt confident and unfazed by anybody on my path because darn it, I live here. I walk and cross these streets with my green lipstick and boots because New York.
That’s the part where I laugh a little. :)
In the grand scheme of my life, I’ve decided that I d o n ‘ t t h i n k I am a New Yorker, and today when I (partially) walked home from work in small-town West Virginia, things were much different than the last time I walked from 300 West 57th Street to my apartment on 34th Street.
There was no lipstick. There were no boots. There was, however, unease. But why?
In America’s biggest city, where I knew nobody and was one in a million walking to work, all eyes on me and everyone around me 24/7, how could I feel so confident? In a small town, where I know much of the college population and realize that probably very few people driving paid attention to me on the sidewalk, how could I feel so much unrest?
I seriously could not help but laugh as I pondered these feelings and waited for Adam to pick me up near The Donut Shop. (That’s why I laughingly threw out the hitchhiker’s thumb and raised a leg as he came my way — if you happened to see that, you’re welcome?)
Maybe the feeling stems from the fact that everybody is so busy in NYC that nobody takes time to stop and notice what’s around them, and maybe I subconsciously realized that. Maybe it’s because walking in West Virginia just feels downright funny anyway, and it’s the first time I’ve ever really done it. Not sure…
But I think I’m up for a redo. With the lipstick and boots this time.