Defending New Yorkers

I've been thinking about posting this for a while, but a recent article pushed me into (delayed) action, and now I fear I may sound like I am copying them. Just remember, they stole the idea from me! The article said that 40,000 Americans who were recently polled voted New York the rudest city in America. I will admit, dozens of people tried to warn me before I moved here, and really anytime I said New York was my favorite place ever, that people were just mean here. Rude, arrogant, dirty, etc. While not everyone in this city is jubilant at all times, there are 8.5 million, so it's a safe bet there are multitudes of both happy and unhappy people.

Have you ever lived here? It's tough. It's flashy and fancy and fabulous, but it is tough. Would you be thrilled to have to carry 7 bags of groceries, or a lamp, or a chair, or a printer, or anything really, several blocks through crowds of people and then up 5 flights of stairs? Forgive us if we aren't peppy when our arms are falling off, or we're soaking wet because its a torrential downpour with high wind-speeds and we don't have cars. Also, it is pretty darn frustrating to not be able to get through to your street because tourists have clogged up the entire place looking at, well, I guess everything. BUT, don't let the seemingly scowling faces fool you.

What I'm about to say may be controversial, but you've got to hear it: New Yorkers are nice people. I have witnessed so many touching acts of kindness in my 4 short months here. People constantly giving up their seats on very crowded subway cars to let a woman, child, or elderly person sit down. Sometimes they give their seats to someone who just looks tired. I can't tell you how many times I have watched a young hippie, or an older gentleman, or a suit-clad stockbroker stop and help a mother carry her child's stroller up the stairs. Every time it brings a tear to my eye, because chances are I had started to judge them on their appearance, and then they go and do something totally unexpected.

Dozens of kind people have started conversations with me just standing at the crosswalk. They make a comment on the wind, or the strange warmth this time of year, and then they ask how my day is going. They don't know me. They don't have to act like they care, but they do it anyway. The teller at my bank is one of the nicest people I've ever met. I live in a city of millions, and she knows me by name. Most of the places I frequent in my neighborhood do. The bank teller in Alabama never tried to learn my name or ask, with genuine care, how my day is going. So don't be quick to judge these Yankees up here!

Yes, not everyone is nice. Yes, there are crazy people here. But you know what? I bet if you looked around your city, you'd find the same mixture of people. We're not so different. The other day, two Swedish women stopped me and asked if I could point them in the right direction. First of all, I was just relieved that I actually knew how to get them to their destination. Second of all, they thought I was a local. So I pointed them the right way, and then I asked how their trip was going and if I could help them in any way. Because that's what New York has taught me.

I've been a little neglectful to the blog....

First of all, I would like to apologize to my poor little blog. It has been so good to me, and I have neglected it for so long! The past 4 weeks have been a whirlwind. And, to be fair, we haven't had internet for 2 weeks. Christmas and New Year's at home was wonderful. I got to spend the week with not only my immediate family, but my extended family (boyfran included) as well. We made our tri-annual trip to Bellingrath Gardens (the sprawling mansion with millions of christmas lights):

Also, I'm pretty much obsessed with my house at Christmas:

I'm also obsessed with my friends:

Too soon, it was time to come back to the city. I had packed up the precious studio apartment and said a (tearful) goodbye (yes, I realize the apartment couldn't hear me, but still). As soon as I walked in the door to our new Central Park apartment, sweet Heather had put out candles on our very bare floor and made our favorite, Brie. It was freezing and a little frighteningly bare, but a great way to break in the place:

I'm not going to lie, the first week was tough. We had all been home around our families and come back to an empty, white walled apartment. I got to working on Craigslist for furniture. After the past 3 months, I can honestly say I am a Craigslist pro. I can spot spam from a mile away. By the end of the week, we had found a huge sectional couch, kitchen table, chairs, and a million other little things for REALLY great prices. Most people rest and relax on weekends. We don't. We move furniture. The end result was pretty worth it though: (excuse the weird iPhone lighting)

I'll post pictures of the cool stuff I found for my room next post. Please excuse the non-enthusiasm, I am finishing up my first campaign today! (This means I haven't slept in about a week.) We are still settling in to our new apartment, and it really is starting to feel a little bit more like home. After a notice that our power was going to be turned off, and a pirated internet fail, we have survived the move in process. We now have lots and lots of room for visitors! I could write on and on about the adventures we had in trying to buy things for the apartment, but I don't want to put yall to sleep. We have lots of visitors coming the next few weekends, so I will have plenty more to write about soon! Come back next week when I am sure to be having a panic attack about turning 23 on Tuesday. (HOLY. CRAP. OLD.)