I have such a love hate relationship with New York. Some days its almost manic how much I can find this city simultaneously thrilling and repulsive. I spent the weekend rediscovering neighborhoods with my daughter and walking this city top to bottom. There are moments when I am overcome with gleaming adoration for a quiet cobblestone street, beautiful brownstones covered in ivy, chic locals hanging around sidewalk cafes and then I can turn a corner and become so sickened by the Louboutin wearing tourists cramming their bodies into dresses 3 sizes to small, drowning in department store perfume staggering all over the Meatpacking district. I have nostalgia for the old New York. The dirty, wild, gritty New York. The city that didn't feel like a suburb had moved into it. The city where mom & pop shops could flourish and weren't replaced by banks and Dunkin Donuts. But to all things there is a cycle and I realize, it takes the yin and the yang to make me adore this city, makes me continue my equal passions of love and hate and keeps me from ever getting complacent. Which is exactly why I moved here in the first place.
