(originally written March 21, 2011)
Maybe it’s because I’ve lived here my whole life, but I’ve always felt partial to New York City: Madison Avenue, the Empire State Building, Alphabet City, yellow taxis and the Brooklyn Bridge. So many places and things that make New York City what it is. George Carlin said it best: “L.A. is a little woman saying ‘fuck me.’ New York is a big man saying ‘fuck you.’” Don’t get me wrong, I like a good fuck, but to get through life, you have to give people the finger once in a while. So, I feel that New York City is the place for me.
Oddly enough, my favorite author is Francesca Lia Block. She writes such beautiful fairy tales that take place in L.A., and I enjoy reading them. But honestly, I don’t feel that if I were to land in L.A. somehow that I would have such a beautiful experience like the characters in her books.
I can see it now.
My plane landing in LAX.
I’d step off the plane and all types of alarms would go off in the minds of the rich bitch socialites. I mean, come on, let’s be real here, I’m 5’4″,curvy 286 lbs. That is NOT how a girl from L.A. is supposed to look (if you believe billboards and such)! They would rush to the Gate and give me SlimQuick, Dexatrim and other countless diet drugs; blonde hair dye, red lipstick, and anything else to make me look just like them. It would be something out of The Stepford Wives; manipulation at it’s finest.
This is why I wouldn’t think of living there. I’m not interested in being stripped of my individuality. I like who I am. It took years to accept it, but I honestly feel like I mean it this time. Give me the bright lights of the Big Apple any day. New York City helps me express myself, not hide behind anything.
(originally written March 6, 2011)
new york city.
the color pink.
the french language.
in a word: life.