I often get sneers and jeers when I tell people that I'm off to New York (again) or somewhere else like Pittsburgh or Denver. People mock me, telling me I must be made of money or I must have a sugar daddy.
Its actually quite simple really. I am flack fucking broke. All of the time. I live from paycheck to paycheck every single week; I barely scrape by on my credit card bill, car insurance and other expenses. When something goes wrong with my car I have to take it to a mechanic that offers payment plans and is understanding of the fact that I am indeed another college student who will be up to their eyeballs in debt when they graduate. I can honestly say, while occasionally I will silently swear at my empty bank account, you will never ever hear me complain about my lack of money. Nor will you ever see me pass up a trip to New York, even if its for 24 hours.
Now I know that some of you are asking "Why, why on earth would you put yourself through that stress all the time? Why can't you just save your money? I'm sure that you'd by much happier without the stress!"
Again, a simple answer: I don't want to.
Don't worry, I'm going to give you more than that. The thing is, I live in a town that fits ever single stereotype you can imagine for a small, Southern(ish) town. There are people in this area that haven't been any further than 60 miles from their front door. You say "New York" and they either think of a baseball team or a place where you get mugged all the time. My father tells me two things constantly: 1.)I was born 40 years too early and 2.) I was born in the wrong location; and I believe him. I look around at these people who haven't traveled 60 miles from their doorstep, who have never seen a Broadway show or even a real skyscraper, who have never been in an area with more than a hundred people or met someone they weren't related to or knew about; and I pity them, I think how empty their lives must be. I mean sure, they're happy and yeah that lifestyle floats their boat but its definitely not for me. I've often compared my hometown and its lifestyle to quicksand: once you get stuck, you're slowly pulled under and suffocated by monotony and a provincial lifestyle. At least, that's how I feel anyway. Please don't mistake these feelings for absolute loathing; there are things about my town that I love and will miss terribly when I do finally move.
The main issue is this: I don't want to be in my 40's and 50's and look back on my life with regret. I know that I have responsibilities and that I can't go to New York or anywhere else whenever I damn well please (though, I'm still working on marrying that rich man), however you can bet your ass I'm going if I can afford to. It just so happens that my good friend Saint Jude, the patron saint of lost and hopeless causes, smiled on me and made it possible for me to go to New York twice this month. I'm not Catholic, but Saint Jude has become my buddy. Every time I go to New York and step foot in the square in front of Penn Station (my nostrils filled with everything from car exhaust and gasoline, to honey-roasted nuts and hot dogs, and of course urine and horse shit. Its a surprisingly comforting and familiar smell.) and take in the surroundings its as if I'm doing it for the first time, every time.
I will be able to tell my children, and grandchildren about all of the wonderful and amazing things I did when I was younger. How many shows I saw in my lifetime, how the city has changed since I was a kid, the places I went, things I did, and the wonderful people I met along the way. Sure, I'm broke now and it goes without say that I sacrifice a lot so that I can live this lifestyle that I do, but honestly I'm happy.
At least, that's how I see it.
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