Jeremy's Weblog

I recently graduated from Harvard Law School. This is my weblog. It tries to be funny. E-mail me if you like it. For an index of what's lurking in the archives, sorted by category, click here.

Wednesday, August 04, 2004

New York is a hard city to live in. I feel like I can say that because I'm from here, and so I'm immune to the usual responses about how it's so much better because of all the things to do, or whatever. It's hard to live here. Or maybe it's hard to work here and commute a decent ways. I think that's it more than just the city. It gets tiring. It gets tiring to have to wake up in the morning and plan your whole day, because you can't go home in between. To have to carry your day's "supplies" with you because no car to keep them in, no house you'll be going back to 6 hours later to get them. It's hard to schedule stuff with the right space between, so you don't have to kill time, but also so you don't have to rush whatever you're doing. And then if someone else is late, it throws it all off. Which isn't a big deal if you're at home waiting for someone. But kind of pain if you're on a street corner waiting for someone. It's hard to remember to carry an umbrella, and tiring to kill time when it's raining even if you do have one. It's tiring to rely on the subway and bus and get home really late even if you don't finish what you're doing all that late. It's a little bit tiring to plan meeting up with people around something else to do, like eating or seeing a movie or watching someone do something (usually for an admission fee), just because it's too hot.cold.wet to sit in a park, and there's nowhere else to sit because no one has a couch, or an apartment (a) big enough for more than one human being, (b) not really far away, and (c) reasonably comfortable. One of my friends, not all that recently, made a comment that he wishes real life was more like college, where people just hang out in each other's dorm room, or just stop by to visit. Adults don't seem to do that. Not even children pretending to be adults, like people my age are. Maybe it's just a New York thing, because things are far away and dirty and crowded. It's hard to buy food in New York because you need to get it from the store to where you live. It's hard to buy anything large you need, like furniture. It's hard to find a place to sit. Or just to think. Because it's loud, and busy, and dirty. And, yes, there's lots of good ethnic food, much of it pretty cheap. And there's lots of independent movies to see, some of them decent. And stand-up comedy, and museums, and lectures -- but who goes to museums and lectures anyway? And bookstores and music stores and all sorts of stuff like that, although that stuff is so much easier (and now cheaper too) online, so who needs the bookstores. The saving grace is that there are lots of people, and job opportunity stuff, and people from everywhere gravitate here, and I know people, so there's people to hang out with and do stuff with that wouldn't be there in other places. And I'll gladly pick tiring over lonely any time, so no complaints. But some days I'm just tired of tiring. I'm tired of the subway. I'm tired of not just being able to walk across a campus and knock on someone's door and just hang out and watch TV or talk or do nothing for a little while. To not have to structure everything around a meal. I don't eat that much. I'm full. I had a big lunch. I don't like pretending I care where we eat when really I e-mailed you just to see you and talk to you and we don't have to eat. Or see that thing. Or don't see that thing. Although lots of things are worth seeing. Sort of. I don't miss things I don't see. These are stupid things to be complaining about. Maybe this is just a long ramble about how cool the suburbs are. People have couches there. And cars. And you can breathe. Unless you're allergic to the trees. Then you can't.