To the City of New York:

Remember me? I’m the girl who contributed so generously to your economy this last weekend. GWB told me that spending money was a good way to fight terrorism in the U.S., and who am I to argue? I’m a patriot.

I think my favorite moments were the ones that were quintessentially New York for me. Old ladies wearing heavy fur coats walking tiny dogs in sweaters. Street vendors selling kebabs and roasted nuts. Having to push my way through packed sidewalks on Canal Street to haggle over poorly-made fakes from China. Cute Italian boys who turn to check out your ass as you walk past. The very healthy-looking rat eating garbage in Grand Central Station. Still-busy streets at 1am. Tiny, crowded shops in the village with cats curled up in the window. Breakdancers in the subway station. Walking down Madison Avenue past Vera Wang, Prada, and Versace, wearing a $35 coat from H&M and $20 pants from Old Navy, and laughing.

It was hard to return to the far-less-colorful midwest on Monday. In comparison, Minneapolis looks like some kind of bland Aryan hell, where everyone is too polite to talk to each other, and eccentricity is something to be afraid of. I think we’ll be back soon.


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