NYC

The energy. The lights. The people. The people, I don't remember this many people. They're everywhere, running in bunches with cameras, with cell phones, with bags, with children, with smiles, with scowls, with attitude, with bewilderment. It's daunting, but I still love it. I wonder if I left Los Angeles would I feel for it how I feel for NYC if I came back to visit?
I still got that eerie feeling when I was wondering around the west side late at night and happened upon a neighborhood where no one was walking around. It's always strange and wonderful in New York, to be walking on a street where no one else is walking. It's a feeling of presence, a feeling that anything can happen.
There are so many memories in this city. Places I used to live, work, study, wander around. I passed by 10th Street and Broadway where my parents left me in front of my dorm and walked off. I remembered sitting outside Brittany Residence Hall and crying for an hour as they walked out of my life (only later to find out that they had watched me the entire time, the horror). I went looking for my favorite Polish restaurant, Theresa's, which has vanished. I walked into the depths of Chinatown trying to find a roving push-cart that sold amazing "Hot Mini Cakes" with no luck. I passed the Williamsburg Bridge that I used to cross every day, good for them for finally fixing up the rusty metal slats that I always imagined I would fall through as I rollerbladed over them. I gave people directions. I got lost after bragging about my superior knowledge of the city.
I'm always making lists in my head comparing the pros and cons of NYC versus LA. Not that I've ever seriously thought about moving back, but it's so easy to romanticize the city when I'm visiting. It's so easy to remember how wonderful it is without calling into my mind my bedroom in a kitchen, my other closet-like bedrooms, the amazingly high rents, the lack of open space, the huge rats jumping out unexpectedly in broad daylight, the incident coming home late one night in Williamsburg...
There feels like there's such a difference in who I was when I was here compared to who I am now. Some things for better, some for worse. I think at the very least, I should try to remember some of the lessons this city taught me that maybe I left behind and shouldn't have. I think maybe I left part of the dreamer in me behind in this city. I didn't realize it at the time, but it wasn't with me in my Uhaul stuck in traffic on the 101 Freeway as I arrived in Hollywood.
I think that's why there's this rush visiting NYC. It reminds me that I still have that in me... somewhere.